


Angels, Demons, and TV Shows

by MollyMonster



Series: Angels, Demons, and TV Shows [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crowley is a sass king, Dean is a really overprotective big brother, F/F, F/M, Sam secretly ships people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 123,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyMonster/pseuds/MollyMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy Greene is a regular high school student. Well, not completely normal, since her favorite TV show consists of angels and demons and creatures that go bump in the night. But her life is ordinary. Until the characters from her show burst into her high school, sending her into a world she can't control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Isn't Part of My School Schedule

I glanced at the clock every few seconds, watching the seconds tick by. I couldn’t help it. It was either that or focus on trig, and that wasn’t going to happen. I glanced down at the papers in front of me, scowling at the symbols and numbers printed on the white sheet of paper, and shifted my gaze back to the clock. There was only about a minute until the bell would ring. Then I could escape to lunch.

“The bell hasn’t rung yet.” I glanced around to see students pause in packing their bags, eyes downcast at their teacher’s scolding. For the most part Mrs. Varia was nice, and definitely a good teacher, but she was a bit strict.

I tapped my fingers on my desk for the few remaining seconds, hands shooting out to snatch up my binder and calculator as soon as that loud ring echoed through the room. Within moments I was in the hall, walking quickly, quickly.

“Lucy!”

I glanced behind me to see Neal jog towards me, towering above most other students in the hallway. I had one class with him, Business. We were supposed to be presenting an original business idea during class that day. We had both brought home half of the work, and were supposed to meet during lunch to put together the finishing touches.  
Neal slowed as he approached me, and I kept walking, his long legs easily keeping pace with me. 

“Ready for today?” I asked.

Neal grimaced. “About that…” 

I stopped and glared at him. “Tell me you didn’t leave your half of the presentation at home.”

“Ok,” he said. 

I raised my eyebrows. “So you have it?”

“No.”

“Then where the hell is it?”

“You said not to say!”

I groaned and slammed my forehead into my palm, an action purely for dramatic effect. At least all my work the previous night hadn’t been for nothing. Neal had never been the most trustworthy student, and intuition had made me complete both halves of the presentation. We still had a full project.

“You’re lucky I have a backup copy of your part,” I said.

“You what?” Neal raced to catch up with me; I had started walking again. “Why would you do the whole thing?”

“Because I didn’t trust you to bring your half,” I shot at him. “And look, I was right.”

Neal looked like he wanted to complain, then thought better of it.

“Can I take a look at it?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “You better,” I told him. “You’ve got to present half of it. And I don’t mean read off the page. You have to memorize your half by the end of the day.”

Neal shrugged. “I already have it memorized,” he said. “I did my half, I just forgot it at home. I know the information. Unless you changed things of course.”

“Nope. It’s all the same.”

We passed a mirror that hung at the corner of the hallway, and I glanced in. Dark skin and hair contrasted rather nicely with the white, lacey shirt I had on over skinny jeans. Dark eyes were highlighted with black eyeliner. I looked good.

I was also starving. I picked up my speed, headed towards the lunchroom. I was moving so fast that when the blast hit me, it threw me off my feet.

I rolled as I landed, flopping over my backpack like a dead fish before twisting onto my stomach, arms coming up and over my head. A moment later Neal crashed next to me, curling up into a ball.

“What the hell?”

I lifted my head, scanning around with wide eyes. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and I stopped for a moment to focus on my breathing. A moment later I caught sight of the man standing in the hall, and any semblance of control that I’d established over my body vanished.

He was a typical guy, in jeans and a t-shirt underneath a jacket. He could have been any dude on the streets, except for his eyes. They were pure black, from the outer edges in. No iris, no whites, nothing. Just black.

_What was he, some sort of demon?_ I’d seen demons before, on tv shows, but that’s all they were. Pieces of fiction, devised in someone’s mind and of no danger to the real world. Yet here stood some sort of man that looked exactly like what a demon would look like.

Or at least according to one show that I watched. I was familiar with multiple shows and movies featuring demons, some better than others, but my all-time favorite was called Supernatural. The show starred two brothers who spent their lives on the road, hunting demons, werewolves, and all those other creatures from your childhood nightmares.  
_But they weren’t real. They couldn’t be._ Things like this didn’t happen. Monsters and heroes from your favorite stories didn’t just pop out of nowhere and into your high school, they were limited to the scope of your imagination.

So maybe it was my imagination. _Was I going mad?_ I looked around me; everything seemed real enough. But for all I knew, I could be trapped inside my own little story, in my head, and could be flailing about on the hallway floor screaming about demons in reality. If so, that would be embarrassing.  
But right then, it didn’t matter. The demon was starting to move, headed for the student closest to him. Before it had a chance to touch him I barreled into its stomach, and we crashed to the floor.

The demon landed underneath me, and even as I screamed for people to start running, it flipped me, as easily as one would flip a pillow, so that it was on top. It grinned down at me, black eyes boring into mine, then stood.

It kept a hand on my throat as it did, lifting me into the air. Somewhere in the back of my mind I noted how everyone was running and screaming. The majority of my attention was focused on the hand around my throat, slowly squeezing the life out of me.

I thrashed, kicking and hitting, clawing at the hands around my neck- all to no avail. I tried to scream, but no sound escaped my throat. By now my vision was starting to flicker, my limbs suddenly far too heavy. My lungs felt like they were on fire, yet there was nothing I could do, I was failing, failing.

“Hey!” The demon’s head whipped to the side, and a moment later the grip around my throat vanished. I crashed to the ground, barely able to cushion my head with my arms, and lay crumpled in a heap. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, I felt like someone had filled my chest with fire. I gasped for air, and slowly I felt my life force return to me.

“Are you alright?” I felt a hand on my shoulder, and glanced up. A man knelt above me, dark hair and deep blue eyes. _Castiel._

I bolted upright, out of instinct, and my vision flashed. I fell backward again, coughing, and Castiel caught me, gently propping me up on my elbows.

“Careful,” he said. “You’re weak.”

I nodded, too tired to bother with a snarky comeback. “Thanks.” I glanced to the side, and sure enough, there were Sam and Dean, Dean wiping blood off a knife. The demon lay dead at his feet.

After a moment I pushed myself up, ignoring Castiel’s nervous hand on my arm. I wobbled slightly, then caught myself and stood again. I probably was staring.

“Are you ok?” Sam was looking at me now, concern evident in his eyes. I nodded, unable to speak. Either way, it seemed my wonder wasn’t of importance. Sam was already looking around him with an appraising look. “Where are we anyway?”

“Upstate New York.” My voice came out hoarse, not to mention painful. “You’re in my high school.”

“Well, let’s just zap out of here.” Dean said this, moving closer to Castiel. He had a much more disgusted look on his face, most likely remembering some rather unpleasant times in buildings much like these.

“Wait!” I stepped in between the triangle that the trio had made, holding up my hands. “It’s not that simple.”

“Don’t worry, we do this sort of thing all the time.” Sam gave me a soft smile, trying to provide me with enough comfort that I would leave. “You’re safe.”

“That’s not it.” I glanced back and forth between the three of them. Despite my near death and my wonder at seeing them, I still retained enough of a clear head to know they couldn’t leave. “I know who you are. You’re characters on a TV show I watch. You’re in a different universe.”

Dean cursed, then looked around like he expected someone to come whack him upside the head with a ruler. “Cas, did you-”

“No.” Castiel’s answer was brief, to the point. “This wasn’t me.”

“Then who did this?” Sam’s mind was already analyzing the situation, running through a list of plausible candidates. “Who’s powerful enough?”

“I don’t know,” said Dean, eyes narrowing. “But I think we have other problems right now.”

A knife was in his hand again, I hadn’t even seen him draw it. Slowly, I followed his gaze, knowing what I would see.

Four students stood still and silent in front of us. They could have been anyone, frozen in terror, except their eyes were black, and they were grinning.

Immediately Sam, Dean, and Castiel began to move towards them. My eyes widened, my heart rate increased. I knew what would happen now, I could see it, and I couldn’t move, couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t their faults, they were just kids, kids possessed by demons, demons that weren’t moving, weren’t speaking, just standing there with those grins, and they would be dead, and there was nothing I could do.

_NO._ The thought raced through my mind, my panicked thoughts finally forming into a coherent word. Now I forced it from my mind and to my lungs and out, out and up, until it came out of my mouth in a single shout. “NO!”

Sam, Dean, and Castiel paused, but didn’t turn to look at me. “They’re demons,” snarled Dean.

“They’re kids,” I protested. “They haven’t had a chance to live yet. Exorcise the demons!”

“They’ll just possess someone else, and kill people,” argued Sam. “We can stop them, right here, right now.”

“No.”

I stared in shock as Castiel spoke. His knife was lowering, his hand at his side, the silver blade disappearing up his sleeve. “No Sam. I’m tired of the killing.”

“Cas-” Sam began to argue, but whatever he said was cut off as Dean stepped forward.

“Exorcizamus te…” I sighed in relief as Dean began to recite the incantation. Rusty at first, from having not been used in years, the words were soon flowing smoothly. The demons snarled and writhed in place, pained by his words. Then they jumped forward, suddenly wielding blades that had been absent before.

Castiel and Sam managed to catch three of them, holding them in place as Dean continued to recite. Their smaller forms worked against them, allowing the two taller, well-built men to anchor them in place. The fourth continued on though, silver knife reaching for Dean’s chest. Dean didn’t notice, or didn’t care, to enveloped in his recitation, too focused to mind the demon. Still it moved closer, closer, and I was already moving again, instinctively, slamming into the demon and knocking it to the ground, even as Dean finished the exorcism. As black smoke billowed around my head, I felt a stabbing pain, and everything went blank.


	2. The Winchesters

The first sensation to return to me was touch. Which meant I could feel pain.

Fantastic.

It felt like a million daggers were being driving into my shoulder at once, digging into the bone. I tried to scream, to thrash, but my muscles wouldn’t move. I was trapped in my own body.

To distract myself from the pain I began to focus on anything else. The feel of my clothes around my skin, my torso and lower body covered in a blanket. I was in a bed somewhere. The question was, where?

Eventually, the pain began to move aside, pushed to the back burner. I found that while I had been concentrating on hiding from it, my hearing had returned. I could feel my movement returning as well, slowly and nowhere near steadily, but still returning.

I listened to what was around me, analyzing everything. There were birds somewhere- outside a window? There was an occasional creaking, someone shifting weight. Each motion they made caused my heart to beat faster. I had no idea who was there.

I remembered what had happened perfectly, though I was still having trouble digesting it. I had, while fighting off the daggers in my shoulder, analyzed the incident at the school, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t insane. I knew I would need physical proof to affirm that.

However, finally, my movement was back. I tried to lift my eyelashes, failed, and tried again. The whole time I tried not to move anything else, least whoever was with me realized I was no longer unconscious. I didn’t know what their intentions were.

Finally my lids stayed open, black lashes hovering at the top of my vision. I scanned around me, studying myself and the room I was in as well as I could without moving my head.  
I was covered in a blanket up to the waist, rendering visible several bandages that tied my arm to my torso. Just thinking about brought the pain to the forefront of my mind, so I began to study the room.

It was a simple motel room, with ugly beige walls and simple beds. Papers and an open computer were sitting on a small table in the corner. To the left of the bed I was on was the door, beside that a window stretched across the remainder of the wall. To my right was a nightstand, shared between the bed I rested on and the bed on its other side.  
At the right of the room I heard a toilet flush, then the sound of running water. A minute later the bathroom door began to open, and I quickly shut my eyes. After a moment I heard someone sit at the table, and I chanced opening my eyes.

Before me sat Sam Winchester. 

He was busy poring through whatever was on the laptop’s screen, oblivious to the fact that I had woken. I was, of course, immensely glad that it was a Winchester and not a demon in the room with me. Then my second thought got rid of that gladness.

Deep down, at the root of the show, Sam, Dean, and Cas were not normal. They hunted things in the night, living neither in one world or the other, but hovering on the edge. It was a dangerous place to spend your life, and put one into a mindset that was becoming more and more obvious as the show went on. Deep down, at their very cores, these three men were at least part psychopaths. 

I began to flex first my fingers and toes, moving gradually up my body. I wanted to be able to move, and move quickly, not stumble around like a drunk. As I began to move my torso around the bead creaked, and Sam turned.

I needed to act like I’d just woken up. I let myself flop on the bed, eyes fluttering, what I hoped was a terrified look on my face. Since I was pretty terrified, I was sure that wasn’t too hard to pull off.

“Hey,” Sam tried for a reassuring smile. “It’s ok. I’m Sam. Do you remember what happened?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” I hated the way my voice sounded. All raspy and hoarse. Sam grabbed a glass off the table and filled it with tap water, handing it to me cautiously. I drank, taking just a small sip at first, then gulping from the glass like the clear liquid inside was the only thing keeping me alive. I suppose it was.

“Thanks.” I set the glass on the bedside table next to me, noticing how my arm was much weaker than I would have liked, and Sam nodded. He sat on the edge of the bed, ready to stand again if I showed signs of discomfort. I didn’t object, and he let his large frame settle into a more comfortable position.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

I gulped. Should I tell him my real name or not? While I doubted Sam, Dean, or Castiel would seek out my family, the demons they fought certainly would. But for all I knew this was a test, and Sam already knew. I decided honesty was the best policy.

“Lucy.” I watched his eyes as I spoke, looking for signs of recognition; something to show that he already knew. “Lucy Greene.” 

Sam nodded. “I’m Sam Winchester,” he said. He held out a hand, and tentatively I took it. 

“I know,” I said. 

“Right.” Sam stood and went to the laptop, tapping it softly. “I’ve been looking up the show you mentioned.”

“What did you find?” I was curious, and more than a bit scared. I knew some fans could get a bit… eccentric. Sam however, didn’t seem to mind too much. Or else he was good at hiding it.

“The show’s spot on, though it’s behind on events,” he said. He said it simply, like we were discussing the weather and not how his life related into a TV show in a parallel universe.

I nodded. “Well, I figure that’s better than it being ahead.”

Sam frowned. “How do you figure?”

I shrugged. “If you know what the future is, you try to change it. Humans always do. You’d probably just end up screwing things up.”

Sam looked indignant. “Thanks,” he said. Sarcastically.

I smiled. “You asked.”

I realized that by now I was sitting up in the bed, posture more relaxed than before. I hadn’t even realized that I’d moved. Sam seemed to just be realizing this as well.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked. “I have painkillers if you need them.”

I nodded. “Yeah, can I have those?” I gladly accepted the bottle, frowning as the child proof cap proved too much for me with only one good arm. With a chuckle Sam took it and twisted the cap off with ease, tossing it on the bed and pouring out a couple of pills for me. I swallowed them, leaning back against the headboard as I did so.

“What happened?” I asked. “I mean, after the exorcism?”

Sam frowned. “What do you remember?”

“I remember one of the demons jumping at Dean, and I tackled it.” I paused, my memory had faded slightly here. “After that it’s just a bunch of pain, then nothing.”

Sam nodded. “You got stabbed in the shoulder, passed out. We didn’t want to leave you there like that, so we took you with us. We brought you here and bandaged you up.”

I had so many questions. Where were we? Where were Dean and Castiel? When could I go home? Could I even go home? I decided to go with the first question that had popped into my head.

“Where are we?”

“A motel, a town or two over from yours. We had to get out of there, but we had to find a place to lay low quick. You were bleeding a lot.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Sam scoffed, settling back in the desk chair. “Don’t be. I’ve seen worse. You’re handling it well too.”

“Thanks.”

Sam nodded absentmindedly, distracted. I looked around the room.

“Where are Dean and Castiel?” I paused as I said Castiel’s name. Should I call him Castiel or Cas? Was Cas an endearing name reserved just for the Winchesters?

“They went to keep an eye on your school. They should be back soon.”

I frowned. “Why do they need to watch the school?”

“It’s ground zero of- whatever the hell happened. We’ve gotta make sure nothing else happens there.”

I nodded, it made sense. But wouldn’t it be a lot easier for them to figure all this out from their own universe? Not that I didn’t find it cool beyond belief that they were here, but I doubt they were enjoying themselves.

“Don’t you have to go back to your universe?”

Sam nodded. “But first we need to figure out how. Which means figuring out how we got here in the first place. That’s a bit complicated.” 

“Maybe I can help.” I leaned forward in the bed. “I’m guessing I’m stuck with you lot for a while, right?”

Sam nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not safe for you to go back to your family. Not yet. As soon as we have all of this figured out you can go back, but right now there’re demons loose, and they’ve seen you with us. You’re their number one target. We’ll keep you safe though, I promise.”

I nodded. I’d expected some answer of that variety, still, it felt like a punch to the stomach. 

“What about my family?” I asked. “Are they safe?”

Sam sighed. “Hopefully. Most demons don’t think to target families; but there’s always a chance. Dean and Cas said they’d put some protections around your house while they were in town.”

I nodded, picturing Dean and Castiel carving devil’s traps into the doorframes of my house. The image, although amusing for some unknown reason, couldn’t quite dispel the gnawing, clenching pain I felt at my dilemma. While I was digesting Sam’s words the door to the room opened, and Dean and Castiel stepped in.

“Oh good, you’re up.” Dean dropped a McDonalds bag on the table, pulling out four burgers. “Here you go.” He tossed me one, and I grabbed at it with my good hand.

We ate in silence, all four of us. Which I thought was strange, because I was pretty sure angels didn’t eat. I decided it wasn’t at the top of my list of priorities.

Dean was licking grease and ketchup off his fingers by now. “So,” he said. “Who are you?”

“Lucy Greene,” I said. Dean nodded, and I caught an almost imperceptible nod from Sam to him.

“Ok Lucy,” Dean crumpled up his burger wrapper, tossing it at the trash bin. It bounced off the rim, landing on the floor. He made no move to pick it up. “Here’s the deal. Apparently we’re in a universe where not only are we characters on a TV show, but people actually watch that TV show. Which means we can’t do much without drawing attention to ourselves. We need to know as much about this place as you can give us.”

I blinked. “It’s not much different from your world,” I told him. “Just without all the supernatural stuff.”

Dean nodded. “Was there anything weird going on in your school before we came through? Anything strange happening a few days before?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. One minute I was walking down the hall, the next I’m having a wrestling match with a creature I didn’t even know existed.”

“Demons are very real,” Castiel cautioned me. “And very dangerous.”

I nodded, not sure whether to gesture to the bruise I was sure was around my neck or to my shoulder first. “I know.”

Castiel leaned back slightly. “Sorry.”

“S’ok.”

“Anyway.” Dean looked slightly annoyed. He sighed, apparently deciding to change what he was going to say. “Listen kid-”

“Lucy.”

“Right. Lucy. Listen Lucy, here’s the thing. We have no idea what we’re in to here, and no idea how to get back to our world. For your own safety you have to stay with us until we can get back, but then you can go back to your daily life and forget we ever existed. Until then, you need to help us.”

I nodded. I wasn’t sure how much help I would be, but I would try. “What do you need?”

“Nothing now.” Castiel was shooting Dean a look, one that I was fairly sure amounted to _leave her alone_. “Right now you need to sleep and gain your strength back.”

I nodded. I was feeling tired already. Healing from demon fights sure took a lot of energy. “And tomorrow?”

“We’ll see what’s going on then.” Dean stood, moving to the fridge to grab another beer and settling on the other bed. He glanced over at me.

“Don’t worry,” he added. “We’ve got another room. Sam and I’ll just hang out here for a bit, then we’ll hit the sack.”

I nodded, already falling back against the pillows, stifling a yawn.

“Just be quiet about it,” I managed. Then I was asleep.


	3. Fans

“Lucy Greene is 17 years old, about 5 foot 4…”

I had been flipping through the TV when the headline on a news station caught my eye. It was an amber alert for me. I frowned, hitting the buttons that would bring me to several other news stations. Each had my picture flashing across the screen.

“Great.” I hit the power button, tossing the remote on the bed. It had been twenty four hours since I’d woken up in the motel room; we were still there. 

“What’s wrong?” Castiel glanced over from the other bed, where he’d been sitting silently for the past couple of hours.

I sighed. “There’re a bunch of amber alerts out on me. There’s no way we’re getting out without someone seeing me.”

“You’ll have to stay out of sight,” he responded. 

I sighed. In this day and age, that was more or less impossible.

“What are you doing over there?” I asked.

“Trying to listen to my brothers and sisters,” Castiel told me. “There’s an almost telepathic network, sound waves that only we can hear, that allow us to communicate.”

“Yeah, I remember from the show. What are they saying?”

Castiel frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s not good,” I commented. “Did you stop hearing things when you crossed to this universe?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes,” he said.

“Well, we just have to get you back to your universe, and problem solved.” I gave Castiel an encouraging smile. He didn’t return it.

I sighed. He was much better with people than he had been when he’d first met Sam and Dean, but he still was a bit of a social lummox. Strangely enough, his social awkwardness had increased slightly when he’d finally gotten his own grace back and restored heaven. I’d learned in the past day that the Winchester trio had managed to get heaven back to normal- or as close as was possible- though they hadn’t wanted to go into details about how. I sensed that it wasn’t a pleasant tale. It generally wasn’t with them.

“Can I ask you something?” I waited for Castiel to nod before continuing. “What should I call you?”

Castiel blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, Sam and Dean call you Cas and other angels and demons call you Castiel, but I’m neither. What should I call you?”

Castiel looked uncomfortable. “Do you want to call me Cas?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I dunno. I feel like I should, cos that’s how Sam and Dean always refer to you; it’s how I know you. But if that’s just for the two of them I’m good with just calling you Castiel.” I felt my cheeks redden with embarrassment. I really needed to shut up.

“You can call me Cas,” he said. “I think I prefer it now.” A puzzled look came over his face, as though his words had surprised him.

I nodded. “Ok Cas.” I sent him a small smile, and for once he returned it.

“You’re very comfortable around us,” he noted.

I smiled, fighting- and failing- to keep my cheeks from reddening again. “I’m generally not around new people. But I already know you three, and it’s hard to remember that you don’t know a thing about me.”

Cas nodded. “I think that there’ll be much time for us to learn about you.”

Before I could respond the door opened.

“Hey, did you see the news?” asked Sam.

I nodded. “Yeah, what are we gonna do about it?”

“We’ll have to sneak you out to the car when we leave, keep under the radar.” Dean dragged a chair away from the table and sat in it. “Don’t worry, we’ve got experience avoiding the cops.”

“Yeah,” I chortled. “Are you two considered on the run still, or do the police think you died again?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Sam let out a short laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Anyways, we need to have a plan for when we do leave. Are you ok to hit the road tonight?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Just drive around the potholes.”

Sam smiled, nodding. 

“Sam’ll check out, and then we’ll leave. I figure we get out of the state, head south,” said Dean.

“Why south?” I asked.

Dean shrugged. “There’s plenty of south to drive through. We’ll work through what’s going on as we move, until we figure it out.”

“Are we going to drive in circles around the U.S. until we do figure this out?” I asked.

“Pretty much.” Dean sent me a small smirk, and I snickered.

“I don’t see a better option,” commented Sam.

“There won’t be until we know what’s going on,” added Cas. His eyebrows were creased with confusion. I could tell he didn’t like not knowing. Not that the rest of us were particularly enjoying it.

“Alright, let’s go South,” I agreed. Around the room there were nods. “What _have_ you guys figured out yet?”

Sam sighed. “Not much of anything,” he admitted. “We haven’t found lore on anything that can open wormholes between universes, and we don’t know anyone back from our universe who has that sort of power.”

“There’s gotta be something we’re missing,” objected Dean. By now he had a beer in hand, and was setting another one in front of Sam. He looked annoyed, like he’d spent the whole day pouring through dead end legends.

“Have you tried the weather?” I asked.

“What?”

“The weather, current events. Maybe there’s a pattern that points here, and another will turn up that’ll point somewhere else,” I explained.

Sam and Dean gaped at me. “That’s brilliant,” said Sam. He jumped up, throwing open the door. “I’ll be right back.”

“Good work.” Dean raised his beer in a salute before taking a sip. Then he leaned back against the table. “So, what have you been talking about?”

“Names,” responded Cas. Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to call him Castiel or Cas,” I hurried to explain. Dean nodded, though I’m not sure if he believed me. 

“Ok.” Sam shut the door behind him, laptop in hand. I watched as he logged in, pulling up the internet. Within a minute he was scrolling through articles on weather patterns.

He glanced up after a few minutes. “This is gonna take a while,” he commented.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured.” Dean sighed and stood. “I’ll get some food. What are we going for tonight?”

I glanced around, waiting for the others to respond. Cas seemed to be doing the same. 

“Let’s go for ribs,” Sam shot over his shoulder. “Like the kind Bobby used to make.”

“Oh, yeah, I could go for those.” Dean pulled his jacket on. “I think I saw a barbecue place around here somewhere. Are ribs good with you?”

I shrugged. “Sure,” I said. “I could go for some ribs.”

Dean nodded and slipped out the door, leaving us in an awkward silence broken only by the sound of Sam clicking through the laptop.

“Do you have another computer?” I asked. “I could help.”

Sam shook his head. “No,” he said. “Thanks though.”

I sighed and nodded. I was tired of sitting in bed, but I knew that I couldn’t leave the motel yet. There was too great a risk that I’d be recognized. I checked my watch; it read 4:46. Time for more pain pills. I caught Cas watching me as I unscrewed the bottle’s lid.

“I’m sorry,” he said when our eyes met. “I would heal you if I could, but none of my abilities work in this universe. I’m too cut off from heaven.”

I nodded. “I figured. It’s ok.” 

Cas nodded, though he still looked upset.

I slumped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was plain white, without even any cracks for me to follow. I started to drum out a beat on my leg with my good arm.

“You’re upset,” commented Cas. I turned my head to look at him.

“No I’m not, I’m bored,” I responded. Cas frowned.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Not unless you’ve got an X-box hidden somewhere,” I said.

“What’s an X-box?”

“It’s a gaming system,” I told him. “Either way, I can’t really play right now.” I glanced down at my arm, which was in a makeshift sling. I was wearing clothes that I’d sent Dean out for that morning; baggy jeans and a plaid shirt. Taking a shower and getting dressed had been hell, but I’d refused to ask for help, instead taking twenty minutes just to get button my shirt. Cas had needed to put my hair in a ponytail for me, though I’d tried to do it myself for nearly a half hour before giving up.

Cas stood, making his way over to my bed and grabbing the remote. Flipping on the channels, he stopped when he got to a news station, glancing at me. I nodded my approval.  
By now my amber alert was no longer flashing across the screen, but there was a report of a double homicide in West Virginia. Cas and I watched the report vaguely, only half paying attention until the reporter mentioned how a woman had been found dead only yesterday within feet of where the couple had been found. At this I glanced over to Sam, who had started looking at the tv as well.

“Does it sound like something you deal with?” I asked. Sam shrugged.

“Could be,” he said. “I didn’t think there were supernatural things in this universe.”

“There isn’t,” commented Cas. “I would have felt heaven here if there were.”

“Maybe it leaked over,” I suggested.

“Huh?” Sam looked confused.

“Maybe some sort of, I dunno, supernatural mojo leaked its way from your universe to this one,” I suggested. “Now supernatural stuff is gonna start happening here.”

Sam frowned. “Maybe,” he muttered. “We’re heading south anyways, we might as well check it out.”

I nodded, turning my attention back to the TV. A bit of time later- I’m not sure how long after- Dean came through the door, looking worried.

“I think we need to leave,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Sam glanced towards the door behind Dean, already standing.

 _“Fans.”_ Dean cringed. “They recognized me from that show.”

“Did they come up to you?” asked Sam?”

Dean nodded.

“What did you do?”

Dean threw his hands in the air. “I played along. I figured it would be better for them to tweet about some actor dude being in New York than for them to say his look alike was here.”

I nodded. “Probably.” I could imagine a demon tearing through the town, searching us out.

“Let’s get out of here.” Sam grabbed his computer and grabbed the last few beers out of the fridge. “Did you buy a cooler?” he asked. 

“Yeah.” Dean opened the door again. “You two, get ready to roll. There’s a bag in the corner Lucy. Put your stuff in it.”

I stood, grabbing my clothes from the table and shoving them in. Then I made my way to the bathroom, wiping off the shampoo, conditioner, and razor that Dean had bought and adding them to the bag. A moment later pads and tampons joined them, as well as a hair brush and package of hair ties. I had been a bit impressed that morning when Dean had come back with it all- he’d thought of everything except a good book.

I reached for my pocket to check for my phone, remembering a moment later that I no longer had a phone. It had been in my back pack at school.

I sat on the bed, struggling to pull on black boots. A moment later Cas was kneeling in front of me, tying the laces.

“Thanks,” I muttered. 

Cas nodded and grabbed my bag from the bed. “Let’s go.”

Sam and Dean were emerging from their room, Sam carrying their bags and Dean lugging a mini cooler. He led us to a black jeep a few meters away, and we shoved our stuff in the back.

A minute later we were on the road, me pretending that I wasn’t bothered by the quick hot wiring Dean had done on the jeep. I knew it was necessary, but it still seemed wrong.

“Let’s head to West Virginia,” suggested Sam. Dean glanced over at him.

“How come?” he asked.

“There could be a case.” 

“We can’t work a case now,” admonished Dean. “We’ve got too much other stuff going on.”

“Since when does that stop us?” Sam pulled out his phone, typing in a search for directions. “Come on, we’re heading south anyways.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, but there’s no supernatural stuff going on here,” he said. “Besides us that is.”

Sam explained my theory to Dean. The older brother listened quietly, but I could tell he was impressed. A minute later Sam was relating the details of the case to him.  
Dean shrugged. “Alright,” he said. “It can’t hurt. But we’ve gotta be careful with this,” he warned. “People are gonna start recognizing us. And you’re not getting involved.” He shot a glance back at me.

“Why not?” I asked. “I can help!”

“Not with that arm you can’t.” Dean pulled into an empty parking lot. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat before we leave the city.”

Sam rolled his eyes and started dishing out the food.

Everyone except Cas ate; we put him in charge of handing out napkins when needed, which was quite often. A half hour later we returned to the road, Sam turning on the GPS on his phone.

I glanced behind me. This was it. I was leaving. I wasn’t anywhere near home, but I’d been unconscious when I’d been brought here. Now I was making a conscious choice to leave. I held back tears of guilt, telling myself that I would see my family again. I wasn’t sure if I was lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken longer than usual to post the next chapter. School and life have been getting in the way, and unfortunately for the next two weeks I'm not going to have much time to write at all. I'm not sure how long it'll be before I can post the next chapter, but once things calm down again I will try to post once a week.  
> Thank you everyone for your patience, and for reading and enjoying my work!


	4. Useless

“Oh thank god.” I threw open the door of the car and stood, walking back and forth to stretch my legs. “We need to stop for more breaks.”

Dean snickered as he watched me. “You get used to it,” he said. I shook my head.

“Come on.” Sam pulled the cooler out of the car. “Let’s get inside before anyone sees us.” He pulled four room cards out of his pocket, handing one to each of us. Together, the four of us approached the motel rooms, Sam leading us to numbers 4 and 5.

“Sam and I will take one room, Lucy and Cas, you take the other,” instructed Dean. “No pillow fights.”

I rolled my eyes, making sure he saw. Then I jabbed the key card into the door.

The room was nearly identical to the motel room I’d woken up in. I set my bag on the first bed and pulled out a granola bar. We’d eaten on the road a couple of hours ago, but I was hungry again.

“Let’s go to Dean and Sam’s room,” suggested Cas. I nodded and followed him to the next room, checking to make sure that no one was around before slipping in.

Sam already had the computer out, and was looking up the case we’d come to check out. I sat on one of the beds next to Cas while Dean leaned against the wall. It seemed like we were stuck waiting.

“I don’t think we’re getting anything this way,” Sam said a few minutes later. “We’ll have to go to the site.”

“We need an EMF detector,” commented Dean. He scowled at nothing in particular, looking around as though he thought one would appear out of nowhere.

“Can you make one?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “But we don’t have anything to make it with.”

“What do you need?” asked Cas. Dean grabbed a pen and paper and jotted down a list, and a moment later the angel was gone.

I turned to the two brothers. “If he has wings, why are we driving everywhere? Why not just fly. It’d be a lot faster.”

“Because it messes with my stomach,” said Dean. “I hate flying, even if it is by scrawny nerd angels.”

I snickered. “Right, afraid to fly. I forgot.” I shot him what I hoped was an evil look, and he scowled.

“You two are five year olds,” commented Sam.

“But you’ve got the hair,” Dean threw at him.

Dean and I locked eyes. “You hold him down and I’ll cut it off?” I suggested. Dean chortled. Sam didn’t look amused.

“Here.” Cas appeared next to me with an armful of stuff. He dumped it on the bed; wires and little metal pieces and duct tape. Dean grinned and got to work.

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked. I was getting pretty frustrated, not being able to do anything. Dean barely glanced over at me as he responded.

“Nope,” he said. “Not much to do right now.”

I sighed. “I’ll be in my room.” I let the door thud shut behind me.

Back in the room I clambered onto my bed and turned on the TV. As I was flipping through the channels Cas came in, closing the door softly behind him. He stood uncertainly in front of the bed, until I looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

“You’re mad,” he stated.

“I’m frustrated,” I corrected him. “I’m useless.”

Cas frowned and sat beside me. “That’s not true,” he said. “You’ve had good ideas about how to get home.”

“None of which are necessarily true,” I pointed out.

“They were still good ideas,” said Cas.

“Thanks.” I turned to face him. “You guys never did say, how did you end up here?”

Cas’s eyes unfocused as he recalled what had happened.

“It was an old warehouse in Montana,” Cas told me. “I could feel that there was something off with the area, so I went there. There were many demons. I managed to escape and went to Sam and Dean, and we took the warehouse. While we were fighting I could feel something happen, some sort of anomaly, and a moment later one of the demons disappeared. We followed it, and ended up in your school. You know the rest.”

I nodded, remembering the sensation of being thrown through the air without ever being touched, of looking into those black eyes. I shook myself out of the memory.

“Well, you should be able to feel when another wormhole opens up then, right?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” whispered Cas. “I’m cut off from heaven here. I might not be able to.”

I reached over and squeezed his arm. “Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ll figure it out.”

We were silent for a moment, then I stood, grabbing the pen and paper left on the nightstand and moving to the table. I pulled my legs up under me as Cas came to stand over my shoulder.

“Ok,” I said. “Tell me everything you remember about the area around the warehouse. What was the weather like? What’s it generally like there? Have there been any news worthy events there recently?”

Cas thought, adopting that confused puppy dog face that I loved. “The weather was fine,” he said. “It was sunny out. I don’t think anything’s happened there. I didn’t do any research on the area.”

“Did the other two?” I asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Do you think you can find it again?” I asked. Cas nodded.

“Why?”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe the wormhole that’ll take you home will turn up there. In this universe’s version of the warehouse.”

Cas nodded. “That makes sense,” he said. “We should let Dean and Sam know.”

I stood. “Why? If it was just you and me we’d already be at that warehouse.”

“But it’s not just us,” objected Cas. “And besides, we’re in the middle of a case.”

I sighed. “Fine,” I grumbled.

Dean was finishing up with his new toy when we got back to their room, grinning proudly as he tweaked a few buttons. 

“All done,” he crowed. “We’re good to go.”

“What about weapons?” I asked.

Dean pointed to a duffel bag on his bed. “I bought some stuff yesterday,” he said.

“Bought?” I asked. “Where’d you get the money?” I zipped open the bag and inspected its contents; guns, knives, lighters, and salt. In the corner of the room I could see a jug of gas.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Cas and I broke into a shop and stole this stuff. Either way, we’re set.

“We should get going.” Sam glanced at his watch. “There’re only a few hours till dawn.”

Dean nodded. “Let’s go then.” He stopped at the door and glanced back at me.

“I know, I know, stay here.” I tried to cross my arms, then thought better of it and settled for a glare.

“I’ll stay with her,” promised Cas. Dean nodded, Sam waved, and then they were gone.

“Well.” I turned to Cas. “That went well.”

Cas leveled a _don’t start_ look at me. “We’ll tell them when they get back,” he promised. I rolled my eyes.

“It would be nice if we had a bit more to go on,” I said. “Maybe if we went there ourselves…” As I reached the door I heard Cas sigh behind me.

We ended up in our room, ordering a movie. Towards the end we heard a car pull up outside, and a moment later Sam and Dean slipped into the room.

“So, do we have a case?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.” Sam sat at the table, leaning back in the chair. Dean wagged the EMF detector.

“You should’ve heard the noise this thing was making,” he said. “Whatever’s there, it’s strong.”

“Tomorrow we’ll have to head to the police department, get what they have on the two murders,” said Sam. Beside me Cas nodded.

“Lucy had another idea,” he said.

“Yeah?” Sam glanced over to me. “What is it?”

“Cas said that you found the original wormhole in a warehouse in Montana. Maybe your way home is there.”

“Maybe,” Sam glanced at Dean. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Definitely,” agreed Dean. “We’ll check it out when we’re done here.” He glanced behind him to where the TV sat. “What are you watching?”

_“The Notebook.”_

Dean made a face. “Nope. I’m out. Goodnight.” He gave a half wave as he headed for the door, and with a chuckle, Sam followed.

“Night,” he called. 

“Goodnight,” I responded.

Cas turned to me. “So he’s reading the book to her to get her to remember who she is?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Why wouldn’t he just tell her?” he asked.

“Would you believe some random person who came up to you and said the two of you were married?” I asked. “Besides, it’s romantic.”

Cas remained silent. Apparently he didn’t agree.

The next day when we woke Sam had already picked up breakfast. We ate in silence; we still weren’t sure what to say around each other. Probably as a result of the added estrogen to the room.

Cas and I were left to our own devices during the day. We ended up ordering another movie. This time I chose _How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days_. Cas found about as much sense in it as he did in _The Notebook._

A few hours later we got a call from Sam. The couple that had been murdered, the man in that relationship had been having an affair with the first victim. Sam and Dean figured that he’d killed her to keep her quiet, and his wife had confronted him at the scene of the crime. While they’d fought, his mistress’s ghost had killed them.

“Her body’s still in the morgue though,” said Sam. “So we’re sneaking it out. We’ll take it out of town and burn it.”

I frowned. It was the middle of the day. I did _not_ see that going well.

“Do you need help?” asked Cas. 

“No, we should be good.” 

I rolled my eyes. “See you later then.” With an angry flourish I hung up the phone.

Cas eyed me. “That wasn’t necessary,” he said.

“Please,” I admonished. "They think I’m useless, which, yeah, maybe I am right now, but I’m tired of being babysat. And that’s all you’re doing! If I wasn’t here, they’d have told you to get over there and help them. In fact, you’d never have been sitting here all day!”

Cas sighed. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “But Dean and Sam know what they’re doing. We need to trust them.”

“Or we can get some stuff done on our own,” I suggested. “Let’s go check out the warehouse. You can fly; we’ll be back before they’ve got the body to their car. Unless you want to watch some more chick flicks.”

Cas looked slightly scared at the prospect. “It’s not safe for you to go,” he said.

“Well it’s not safe for me here,” I said. “I don’t think it’s safe anywhere. That’s why you’re playing nanny. As long as we’re stuck together, we might as well be productive.”

Cas sighed. “Fine,” he said. “But stay by me. And do as I say.”

“Yes sir.” I gave him a salute. Cas reached out and tapped my shoulder, and a moment later the motel room vanished.

We were standing inside a factory. Or at least what used to be one. Leftover machine bodies stood lining the floor, a few bits of metal scattered here and there. There was plenty of dust, and more than enough cobwebs for my comfort. But as far as I could see, there were no wormholes.

I looked over to Cas. The angel was spinning slowly in a circle, taking in the abandoned warehouse we stood in. His eyes combed up and down the walls, ceiling to floor. 

“Anything?” I asked. Cas shook his head.

“Nothing.”

I nodded. “Alright. That doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “Maybe it just hasn’t opened back up again. Or maybe we’re in the wrong place.”

Cas looked at me and I frowned. He looked uncertain. 

“What?” I asked.

Cas sighed. “Are we sure that it will open up again?”

I felt my gut wrench. “I’m sure it will,” I assured him. “We’re gonna get you home. All three of you.”

Cas nodded. I doubted that he believed me, but I hoped that at least he felt reassured. At least a little.

“Let’s go,” he said. I nodded.

 

* * * *

 

“You did what?” Dean paused in pulling off his boots, straightening his back to glare at me.

“We went to the warehouse,” I said. “To check for wormholes.”

“What the hell were you thinking? That place could have been filled with demons!”

“We were careful,” I snapped. “We decided to do something for ourselves, instead of waiting around for you to dish out orders!”

Dean blanched as though I’d hit him.

“Is that what you think of me?” he asked. “Do you think I’m just ordering you around? If you’ve got a problem with me, by all means, let me know! Don’t go tiptoeing around on my account!”

I opened my mouth to do just that, but Sam jumped in.

“Whoa, guys, calm down a minute,” he said. “Let’s not do this.”

We both ignored him. “Well?” asked Dean.

“I’m not a child,” I growled. “I can handle myself. I’m tired of being told to sit tight and wait for you to get back. I want to do things. I want to help! Otherwise, what am I even doing here?”

“You’re right.” Dean’s face set. “What are you doing here? You can leave anytime you want. If you’ve got such a problem, why don’t you just go?”

I took a step back. I hadn’t expected him to do that. But his jaw was firmly set; he wasn’t backing down.

Suddenly I felt an onrush of anger and humiliation take over me. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and knew that a minute later there would be tears in my eyes. I needed to get out of there.

“Thanks for the help Cas.” 

The angel’s eyes were downcast as I stalked towards the door, slamming it shut behind me. Behind me I could hear Dean start to lay into Cas.

A few minutes later Cas slipped back into our room. I was laying on my side, facing away from the door, so the first I saw of him was the flap of his trench coat as he moved to stand in front of me.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I snapped. I took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Cas sat on the edge of the bed. “He doesn’t really want you to leave,” he said. “None of us do.”

“I know.” I turned over so that I could see him better. “It’s just… I miss my family. And my friends. And I don’t know when I’ll see them again, or if I even will. And I’m tired of not being able to do anything.” I shot a glare down at my arm.

I glanced up as Cas’s hand came to rest on my shoulder. He had a strained look developing on his face, like he was trying to lift a boulder. A minute later his hand fell away.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do anything. I wish-”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “I’m the one who got myself stabbed.” 

“That wasn’t your fault,” Cas objected. I didn’t respond.

A knock sounded at the door. A moment later Dean poked his head through.

“Hey,” he said. “Can I talk to Lucy for a minute?”

Cas glanced over at me, and with a scowl I nodded. The angel rose, and a moment later the door closed behind him. Dean and I were alone.

He stood awkwardly in the entrance, looking like he was seriously regretting coming in. I raised my eyebrows.

“If you have something to say then say it. Otherwise get out.”

Dean sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” He sighed and sat at the edge of my bed, all the way at the bottom. “And I’m sorry if you feel like I’m not letting you do anything.”

“That’s because you’re not,” I muttered. Dean glared at me for a second.

“You got stabbed,” he said. “You need to heal. Once you’ve healed I’ll let you do what you want. But I can’t have you putting yourself in harm’s way when you’re already hurt. Besides,” he added. “Everyone’s looking for you. Right now if you do anything you’ll be recognized immediately. But by the time you’ve healed the search for you will have faded.”

I winced. I didn’t like to be reminded of the fact. Each day I stayed away, each minute I chose to stay with the Winchesters, I hurt my family a bit more. I didn’t know how I would be able to look them in the eyes when this was all over. And besides that, by the time it was over, they’d have stopped looking for me. They’d have moved on. Forgotten me.

Dean saw my face change. “Sorry,” he said. “Bad way to put it.”

“It’s ok,” I said. “I already knew it. I probably needed to hear it.”

Dean nodded. “I am sorry,” he repeated. “And in a while, you can help all you want. Just get better first.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“S’ok.” Dean stood, clearly uncomfortable now. “You should’ve seen Sam as a kid. His tantrums were bad.”

I snickered.

“We good?” Dean asked.

I nodded. “We’re good.”

I followed Dean back to his room, where Cas was peering over Sam’s shoulder at the computer screen. They looked up as we came in, and Sam and Dean exchanged nods.

“I think we’ve got another case,” said Sam. “This one’s in North Dakota.”

Dean glanced at his watch. “We’ve got time before the sun sets, do you wanna hit the road now?”

Sam nodded. “Might as well,” he said. He passed the computer to Dean. “You two read up on the case. Cas and I’ll get the car ready.”

Dean sat at the table with the computer, positioning it so that I could see. A high school girl had been found dead with her wrists slit. The thing was, there was no knife found where she’d died. And the room locked from the inside. There was no way anyone could have gotten in and out.

In the car we discussed how we would gather information on the case. Dean and Sam were hoping to be able to pose as police detectives again.

“What will you do if that doesn’t work?” I asked. “Can you go undercover at her school?”

“We’ve done it before,” said Sam.

“Yeah, but that was before you were the look alikes of famous actors,” I reminded him.

“Well there’s still an amber alert out on you,” said Dean. I sighed.

They continued to plan, to plot, stopping at a drive through along the way. I spent the hours staring out the car window, until finally I let the steady motion of trees passing by lull me to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long for me to add another chapter; I've been busy studying for AP tests. Luckily school is winding down for a few weeks before I have to start stressing about regents, so I should be able to go back to posting every weekend. If I miss a week, I'm so sorry; I do my best. Thank you all for your patience, and thank you for reading and enjoying my story!


	5. Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken so long to post the next chapter. Summer's here now, so hopefully I should have more time for my stories. I don't want to promise anything though, because those haven't amounted to much in the past.  
> Anyways, enjoy the story! And thank you to everyone who reads this!

I flipped open Sam’s laptop, logging in and pulling up a search on the girl who had died.

Her name was Sarah Brooke; she had been in high school. Several news sources gave me some information; she was a junior, not in any clubs, and had received average grades. Nothing stood out about her.

Next I tried her twitter. There were selfies, retweets about this or that amusing thing, and little comments that she’d written herself. And they weren’t good.

This girl had not known how to keep her mouth shut. It seemed that every time a teacher pissed her off she would make some very obnoxious, very obvious remark on twitter. The same went for students she didn’t like. Some of the things she’d said were downright mean.

Cas happened to look over my shoulder as I scrolled past a picture of Sarah, leaning forward in front of the camera so that her shirt dropped open, her lips pursed in a bright red pucker face. Dark eyes were thoroughly covered in makeup, and strands of her dark hair hung into her face.

Cas seemed to stumble back in surprise and fright, a confused and horrified look on his face. 

“What is wrong with her lips?” he asked. “Does she need a doctor?”

I chuckled. “She’s dead, Cas,” I said. His face grew more alarmed.

“Relax,” I reassured him. “It wasn’t from her guppy imitation. She’s the girl whose death we’re here to investigate.”

Cas nodded and sat beside me. “Right,” he said. “What have you found?”

I shrugged. “Nothing much. Probably half the girls at her school would have had motive to kill her, but we’re only here because whatever killed her isn’t something that can be cuffed.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “Have you heard from Sam or Dean?”

“No.” Cas peered at the computer again, and I saw him do a quick imitation of Sarah’s guppy face. A moment later Cas’s cell phone buzzed, and I grabbed it. The text read one word.

_Poughkeepsie._

“Shit.” I flipped the computer shut and grabbed my bag, thankful that I hadn’t started unpacking yet. “We gotta beat it.”

Cas glanced up in confusion. “Why?”

I waved his phone in the air before tossing it to him. “Dean just texted. Poughkeepsie. Drop everything and run.”

Cas nodded and stood, grabbing his bag. He vanished, reappearing a moment later with the things Sam and Dean had left in the room next door. 

“Do you know how to hot wire a car?” I asked. 

“No.” Cas frowned. “Do you?”

“Nope, but I’m about to learn how.” I picked a car at random and set my bag down, gauging the vehicle. It was a tan sudan, with one of those family member stickers on the side window: two guys, one kid, and one dog. With a sigh, I jabbed my elbow out; it smashed against the window.

“Ow,” I muttered. I scowled at the glass, still intact, and positioned myself in a better way. I had never tried to break a window before; had always been careful not to. I needed to let go of that now.

I threw my elbow back, hard. This time I heard a shattering behind me, and I made a small sound of pain as little pieces of glass embedded themselves in my arm. As I stepped away from the car Cas seized my elbow.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. Fine.” I stuck my arm back through, unlocking the door from the inside and throwing it open. I then attempted to peel open the compartment under the driver’s wheel with my fingers. It didn’t work.

“Here.” Cas jabbed his knife, the triple edged one, into the compartment and pried it open. I glared at him. It hadn’t occurred to him to give that to me when I was breaking the window?

I slid down in the seat so that I could see the wires better. There were a jumble of them under there.

“Do we have any more knives?” I asked. Cas nodded, grabbing the bag that the weapons were stored in. “Something small,” I called. A moment later he had returned with a silver pocket knife. 

“Perfect,” I said. I used the knife to cut carefully at the rubber coating on the wires, guessing I wasn’t supposed to cut the wires themselves. I began to touch the wires together, wincing in half expectation of being electrocuted. After a minute the car roared to life.

“Alright!” I straightened up and began to adjust the mirrors. “Hop in. Let’s get outta here.”

“You’re injured,” Cas pointed out. “I’m driving.”

I rolled my eyes, but scooted over. A moment later the angel was in the driver’s seat.

“Give me your phone,” I said.

“Why?” 

“Whenever Sam and Dean get split up they meet up at the first motel in the phone book,” I explained. “Since no one uses those anymore, it’ll probably be the first motel that Google gives us. Didn’t they tell you that?”

Cas nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket, handing it over. “They did. I forgot.” He frowned, wondering, as I was, how he could not remember. 

“Are you ok?” I asked. 

“Fine,” he replied. I couldn’t help but feel that it was a lie.

Ten minutes we pulled into the parking lot of the Washington Inn. As we circled around the small motel, Sam poked his head out the door of one of the rooms and waved at us.   
Cas parked the car and grabbed our bags.

“Did you break the window?” Sam peered around us at our stolen ride as we made our way to the room.

“How else were we supposed to get in?” I asked. “We’re lucky I figured out how to hotwire it.”

“Dude, I taught you how to do that.” Dean was leveling _a what the hell?_ look in Cas’s direction. Cas ignored him and brushed past.

“Lucy hurt her elbow breaking the window,” he commented. “She’ll need it looked at.”

Sam grabbed my arm. “Yeah, let’s get that cleaned.” He shut the door, helping me pull my jacket and shirt off. I was left standing in the middle of the hotel room in my tank top.

“Hurry up.” I winced as I held my arm out behind me. It was getting heavy, and the position did not feel nice with the gashes on my arm.

“You’re the one who shoved your arm through a car window,” commented Sam. He held a needle in one hand, a gauze pad in the other that he was using to dab at blood.

I yelped at the needle bit into my flesh, then thought I was going to throw up as I felt it drag dental floss through my skin. I didn’t dare look behind me at my arm.

“Did you get out of the other motel ok?” asked Dean.

“There weren’t any problems,” said Cas. 

“Done.” Sam stepped back, and with a relieved groan I pulled my shirt back on. “How’s your shoulder feeling?”

“Good.” I moved my left arm around, wincing slightly as I did. “It’s coming around.”

Dean nodded. “You’re lucky the demon didn’t get it very far into your shoulder.”

I nodded. “Plus I heal fast.”

“Why did we have to leave the motel we were at?” asked Cas.

“We went to where they found the vic. and tried to pass off as cops, but someone recognized us from that show.” Dean scowled. “This is starting to get annoying. We barely got out of there without being arrested.”

I frowned. “So what are we gonna do now?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” admitted Dean.

“Maybe I could-” I started, but Dean cut me off.

“Don’t even think about it,” he ordered.

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up and listen. Schools keep the entrances unlocked during class changes, so kids can take shortcuts outside. I can slip in during a change, ask questions, and slip out again before anyone notices.”

“Yeah, but your face is plastered all over the news,” interjected Sam. “Someone would recognize you.”

I shook my head. “Not necessarily. Teachers might, but students don’t really pay attention to the news. As long as I don’t do anything stupid, no one will notice me.”  
Sam locked eyes with Dean. “It’s our best option,” he said. “That crime scene’s pretty well guarded; I’m not sure we’ll be able to sneak back in.”

“Did you find anything before you were made?” asked Cas.

“We got an EMF reading,” said Dean. “There’s definitely something there.”

I glanced at my watch. “We’ll have a better idea what tomorrow; it’s past the time schools let out.” 

Dean nodded. “Right now we need to figure out sleeping arrangements anyway. This was the last room available. We’re all stuck here tonight.”

I grimaced. This was not going to end well. “I am not sharing a bed with any of you,” I stated. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Sam patted the bed he was sitting on, the one closest to the door. “Dean and I can share this one.”

“And I don’t sleep,” added Cas.

“Then we’re set.” I ignored Dean’s exasperated look at having to share a tiny motel bed with his moose of a brother and crawled onto the second bed, grabbing the remote. A moment later I was trying to find a news station.

“Well, there’s nothing on here about you two,” I said, skimming the headlines. “That’s good. Oh, look at this.” A new headline had just come on. Another girl had been found, killed in the same way as the first; wrists slit in her bedroom.

I whistled. “The last one died where again?” I asked.

“Abandoned warehouse in town,” said Dean. “There were a few stubs there, and I don’t mean from cigarettes.” 

My eyebrows rose. “Lovely,” I commented dryly. 

“What’s the connection though?” asked Sam.

“They probably went to the same school,” I offered.

“You think the ghost is picking out victims at the school?” asked Cas.

I nodded. “Possibly. I was looking on Sarah Brooke’s twitter; she wasn’t the nicest. What do you want to bet the same was true of this one: Addison Devras?”

“I’ll look into it.” Sam grabbed his laptop from the bags Cas had carried in, flipping it open. “You might not even need to go to the school tomorrow.”

“Yes she does.” Dean sighed and pulled the EMF detector out of his bag. “If our not so friendly ghost is picking up targets at the school, you’ll get a reading off this. In between classes I want you to wander around the school, see what you can pick up.”

I nodded. “How does it work?”

* * * * 

I hovered by the side entrance to the school, my bag slung over my shoulder. To make my look a bit more convincing, we had stuffed my bag with Sam’s laptop and their dad’s journal. I had declined adding the playboy magazines that Dean kept in his bags to my meager disguise.

I had been mesmerized when Dean had pulled out the old leather journal that had been left to them by their father. Part of me hadn’t believed that they still carried it with them. Or at least doubted that they would have it in this universe. But apparently it went everywhere with them. Even now I had to fight to keep from pulling out the old book and flipping through its pages. In them were meager drawing etched out in pencil, followed by John’s sharp edged writing. He had filled entire pages with notes, supplemented by article clippings. Here and there I could see notes added to his work by Sam and Dean, and towards the back the brothers had even added some new entries of their own. It really was something.

The bell rang inside, pulling me out of my reverie. I pulled the earbuds to the EMF detector around my ears, pulling out the small device on the end of the wire and holding it at waist level. I hoped I wouldn’t seem too out of place with it. I was relying completely on humanities obliviousness.

I made my way through the halls, glancing down at the EMF detector. The needle wavered slightly, but not by much. I ended up by the cafeteria, where students were starting to flood in. A commotion down the hall caught my attention.

Two girls stood in the center of the hallway, laughing. But it wasn’t the good natured laugh that I’d often shared with my own friends, or even with the Winchester trio. This was laughter at the expense of someone else.

That someone else happened to be a small girl with dark hair. She was backed against the wall, and although no one seemed to be keeping her there, she was making no move to escape as the pair of girls continued to mock her for something.

Anger welled up inside me, and I started forward, but someone grabbed my arm.

“Don’t,” whispered the person. She was around my age, with blonde hair and a bit of a chunky frame. “There’s no stopping them. You’ll just make yourself some enemies.”

I frowned and pulled out my earbuds. “Are they always like this?” I asked. The girl nodded.

“Pretty much. They’ve been worse since Sarah Brooke died. They were friends. Sarah was their ring leader too. But I guess Heather filled the spot nicely.” The girl glanced back over to the pair laughing, and yes, one did seem to be in charge.

“That’s not right,” I said. “What about the other girl? Addison Devras? Was she friends with them?”

The girl beside me shrugged. “They weren’t close, just the kind of fake closeness that two teenage girls competing for the top of the social hierarchy can impersonate.”

“Was she this bad?” I gestured back to the girls, who had by now- thankfully- moved on from the girl and were moving towards the cafeteria.

“Worse, actually,” said the girl. She smiled. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

I gulped, my mind backpedaling. I could almost see red lights go off inside my skull.

“Martha,” I blurted out. “Martha Underhill.”

The girl smiled. “I’m Nancy Trione.” She glanced at the cafeteria doors. “You headed to lunch?”

“Nah.” I did my best to sound nonchalant. “I’ve got to head that way.” I gestured behind me, towards where I’d first come into the school. “See you around.”

I didn’t wait for Nancy to respond, bolting away. Everything, I knew, had turned out fine, but I still didn’t like having to lie. I felt uneasy, like at any second the cops were going to turn up. Or worse, a demon.

An idea occurred to me, and I slinked into the back hallway where the Sarah Brooke’s friends had been teasing the one girl. The EMF needle shot up.

I grinned, tracing my way along all the shortcuts and back hallways I could find in the school. There were quite a few. In each one the EMF needle went up. 

Finally I went to the library. Walking the back routes and taking the shortcuts were fine when you had no friends and wanted to get to class quickly, but that didn’t help you at all during lunch. The go to place for the nonpopular kids to hide seemed to be the library.

As soon as I stepped in the doors, I knew there was something there. The EMF needle spiked, its weird little noises filling my ears. I grinned and moved deeper into the library. 

The further I went in, the more the detector spiked. Eventually I ended up at the back of the fiction section, in a tight little corner where someone could hide and read in relative peace. By now I could faintly hear the EMF detector without any earbuds in.

I made my way to the nearest side door, rushing out. In the parking lot Dean was waiting in our latest stolen car, watching worriedly for me.

“What’d you find?” he asked.

“It’s a student here,” I declared. “Well, a former student. A dead former student.”

Dean’s eyebrows went up. “You sure?”

I nodded. “Yep. Both vics. were bullies, and the EMF detector started making noise in the back halls and library. The places where the not popular kids end up.”

Dean nodded. “So what do you think happened?” he asked.

I considered for a moment. “I think the ghost used to be someone who got bullied a lot, who eventually committed suicide. Now, since all the supernatural mojo leaked to this universe, he or she’s come back to get their revenge.”

“By killing people who bully others,” realized Dean. “And I bet our ghost killed themselves by slitting their wrists.”

We pulled into the motel, where Sam and Cas were waiting. Impatiently, we filled them in on our theory.

“I can find that out from here,” said Sam. He flipped open his computer, pulling up the internet.

“This town has had a five suicides,” he commented several minutes later. “Two of them could be our ghost.”

“What are we supposed to do?” I asked. “Burn both bodies?”

“It’s better than burning the wrong one and letting someone else die,” said Dean. 

Sam checked its watch. “We’ve got a couple hours till the sun sets,” he said. “The benefits of winter. Hopefully it won’t go after anyone else before then.”

My eyes widened as a horrible thought occurred to me. “I think it might,” I blurted out.

“Who?” Sam was halfway standing.

“I’m not sure what their names are. There’s two of them. They were friends with Sarah Brooke, and today I saw them picking on some girl at the school,” I said. “And I picked up quite a bit of EMF in that spot.”

Sam flipped open his computer. He hacked Sarah’s social media sites, searching for the names.

“There,” I said, pointing to the screen. On it was a picture of three girls; Sarah Brooke, Heather Sient, and Mikaela Varnes. The last two girls, Heather and Mikaela, were the two I’d seen at the school.

Sam began a more complex hacking sequence, working his way into the school’s website, where each student’s personal information was stored. Within a few minutes he had their addresses pulled up.

“Sam, you’re with me. Cas, head to Mikaela’s house. Keep an eye on her.”

“What about me?” I stepped in front of the door as Dean slung his jacket on, arms crossed. Without me they’d still be on square one. I was not getting left out of this.

Dean sighed. “Fine. Go with Cas. But stay out of trouble. If anything happens, call me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered. I grabbed my coat, and a moment later Cas’s hand was on my shoulder.

Mikaela’s house was small but pretty, blue with white shutters and doors. Cas handed me a small canister filled with salt.

“Wait here,” he said. “I’m going to make sure she’s in the house.”

“I really don’t think-” 

Cas vanished, leaving me talking to thin air. 

“-that’s a good idea,” I finished.

There was a tree in the yard of the house across the street, the branches low enough for me to climb. I clambered up, perching among the leaves so that no one looking out their window would be able to see me. That would have been awkward to explain.

Peering at the house, I saw one of the lights going on in an upstairs room. Through the window, I saw Mikaela throw herself on her bed, phone in hand. A moment later the lights started flickering.

“Shit.” I jumped from the tree, wincing as the motion rattled my shoulder. Then, bottle of salt in hand, I started for the house.

The door was locked, so I kicked out at it. Nothing happened, so I kicked again.

“Whoa.” I stumbled as my foot met the air, and Cas caught me. 

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“The lights in Mikaela’s room are flickering,” I said. “The ghost is here.”

Cas turned and ran back into the house, and I followed. I paused as we reached the living room, the small bottle of salt in my palm feeling suddenly insignificant. I grabbed a fire poker from next to the fireplace, thanked my good fortune that this family hadn’t switched to electric, and followed Cas up the stairs, bouncing the metal rod in my hand.

Cas arrived at the room first, from which screams were already echoing. I shouldered my way in after him.

Mikaela was huddled against the wall, cradling her wrist against her chest and screaming. Blood flowed down her front.

Cas stepped in front of her, un-stoppering the bottle of salt. He threw it at the ghost in front of him. 

I ignored the battle, trusting Cas, and crouched in front of Mikaela. 

“Let me see, let me see,” I whispered. I pulled off my shirt and tied it around her wrist, then grabbed her other arm and pulled her up. “Let’s get out of here. Come on.”

As she stood Mikaelas screamed, backing up. I whirled to see the ghost in front of me. She had long hair and tear marks on her cheeks, blood soaking her front. In her right hand she held a steak knife. This she slashed at me.

Instinctively, I moved my arm forward, parrying with the poker I’d taken from the fireplace. The two metals, one supernatural, clashed. The smell of ozone filled the air.

I shoved forward, throwing the ghost off balance, and stabbed with the fire poker. It went through her chest, next to where her heart would be if she were alive. A moment later Cas grabbed my bottle of salt from my pocket and flung the contents at her. With a shriek and a flicker, the ghost vanished.

I turned. Behind me, Mikaela was sinking against the wall, her eyes fluttering. I grabbed her as she fell.

“No, don’t fall asleep, wake up.” I shook her, then with an apologetic wince slapped her face. She blinked, but didn’t give any other response. “Cas?”  
The angel pulled her from my arms, standing and balancing her in his own. A moment later he was gone.

I grabbed the fire poker from the ground and held it ready, putting my back against the wall as the enormity of how alone I was hit me. Anything could happen. 

So when Cas reappeared beside me, I totally did _not_ scream.

“It’s me,” he reassured. I lowered the poker, which I’d nearly hit him with. 

“I know.” I cased a glance around us. “Where’d you bring her?”

“The nearest hospital.” Cas grabbed his canister of salt from the ground and shoved it in the pocket of his trench coat, which was now stained in blood. 

“Do you think it’ll attack her there?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” Cas looked worried. “We need to see Dean and Sam.”

A moment later we were outside Heather’s house. I peered around; no one was there.

“They haven’t gotten here yet,” I said. I laughed. “They have to drive. They probably just left the motel.”

Cas frowned and pulled out his phone, dialing Dean’s number.

“Where are you?” he asked. A minute later he snapped the phone shut and grabbed my arm.

“Ow.” I rubbed my head as it crashed into the ceiling of the car, falling backward into the seat.

“Sorry.” 

To my surprise, Cas sounded like he meant it.

“What the hell?” Dean jerked the steering wheel; off to the side horns blared. Dean waved them on.

“Mikaela Varnes was just attacked by the ghost,” I supplied. Sam glanced back, taking in the blood that covered us.

“Is she alright?” he asked.

“I brought her to the hospital,” said Cas. 

“Did you get a good look at the ghost?” asked Sam.

Cas nodded. 

“Yeah, we did,” I said.

Sam pulled out his phone, where he’d taken screenshots of our two possible candidates. Cas took it from him and flipped back and forth between the two photos.

“The first one,” he said. He handed it over to me, and I scanned them before handing the phone back to Sam with a nod.

The photo had been of a girl about my age, with dirty blonde, pin straight hair and green eyes. In the photo she had on a Santa hat, the white pom pom dangling over her face. She was smiling at the camera, but behind her eyes I could see unhappiness. Loneliness.

“What was her name?” I asked. The words sounded sad. I’d never spoken about someone in the past tense before. I suppose that was how the Winchesters referred to the majority of people.

“Abby Indive,” Sam informed me. “This photo was taken right before her death.”

I felt my gut twist. “That’s so sad,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Dean’s voice sounded gruff when he spoke from the driver’s seat, like he agreed but didn’t want to admit it. He pulled to the side of the road. “There’re shovels, gas, and salt in the back of the car. Cas, why don’t you pop over to the cemetery and take care of the bones. I’ll keep an eye on Heather till you’re done. Bring Sam to the hospital Cas. Sammy, keep an eye on Mikaela, just in case.”

“You think she’ll turn up there?” I asked. Dean shrugged. 

“I don’t know,” he said. “Climb up front; you’re with me.”

I nodded, slipping out of the back seat as Sam met Cas at the trunk of the car. I turned to watch as Cas pulled a few supplies out, then he and Sam were gone.

Dean and I were silent as he drove. I couldn’t help but sneak glances over at him. I highly doubted he wasn’t up to something. I also noticed that he was also glancing continuously over at me.

As we drove I started to feel shaky as the adrenaline began to leave me. Rubbing my hands together, I looked out the window. I’d just had my first fight with a ghost. I was having a bit of trouble comprehending it.

I needed to get out of the motel room more.

Ten minutes later we pulled up in front of Heather’s house. Dean parked the car across the street, leaving the engine idling as we sat at the corner. We both turned to watching the house.

“So,” Dean said a few minutes later, “how’s your arm?”

“Getting better,” I said. I poked at the wound with my finger, noting how my stupid action didn’t hurt as much as it used to. “How long will it take to heal?”

“A while,” said Dean. “And you have to rebuild the muscle in your arm. It won’t be fun.”

I groaned. “Great.”

Dean chuckled. “Could be worse,” he said. “That’s really a minor injury considering.” 

“Yeah,” I glanced down at my shoulder. It really was. Especially since at the time I’d just tackled a demon holding a very large knife. I was lucky I wasn’t dead.  
But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Your first ghost encounter,” Dean continued. “How do you feel?”

I shrugged, still processing my emotions as the last of the adrenaline slinked out of my system.

“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “I’m still processing.”

Dean nodded, seeming pleased with my response. My eyes narrowed.

“So, why did you want me with you?” I asked. Dean glanced over, wary now, and I shot him a grin. “Or did you think I didn’t pick up on that?”

Dean shifted to face me without taking his eyes completely off the house, and I grimaced. I felt like I was about to get a lecture from my parents.

“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” he said.

I frowned. “You don’t trust me?”

Dean shot me a glance. “You’ve got your show about me and my brother. What do you think?”

I nodded. After all he’d been through, Dean didn’t trust easily. Not that he had trusted easily to begin with, but years of the apocalypse and the heaven and hell drama that followed had hardened him further. 

“What will make you trust me?” I asked. Dean glanced over in surprise.

“You’re taking this well,” he commented. “Most people would flip if I told them I didn’t trust them.”

“I’m not most people,” I said. “I can be reasonable.”

“Can be?” Dean looked amused.

I shrugged. “I have my moments.”

Dean chuckled. “Alright.” He sighed. “Why are you here?” he asked. “Why do you want to hunt with us?”

I looked ahead, considering my answer. I knew that besides being wary of an enemy in disguise, Dean was also making sure I wasn’t some thick headed idiot that would get him killed. I had to choose my words wisely.

“Why do you hunt?” I asked. “You want to help people, help them in a way that a badge and set of handcuffs can’t. I know it’s different for you, because you grew up in this life, but I’ve been watching that show for years, and in a way so did I. I want to help people.”

“And that’s the only reason?” Dean cocked an eyebrow at me, and I rolled my eyes.

“Ok. Yes, a part of me always thought it would be fun. Chasing down monsters, the action, the adventure, blah blah blah. Every fan of the show thinks that. But don’t say that you don’t find it the least bit fun. Are you telling me that you don’t enjoy that feeling you always get in the middle of a case?” I stared firmly at him, not backing down. 

Dean nodded slowly, considering. “Fair enough,” he said. He glanced down at me. “When I was a kid I thought that. I thought it was all fun; I looked at it like a game.”

“And you don’t anymore?” I asked.

“Oh sure, there are some parts I find fun,” Dean said. “Undercover can be a laugh. There are always certain aspects of the case that can be amusing. But the hunting itself isn’t. You gotta learn to separate the two.”

I nodded. “When did things change?” I asked. “When did you stop seeing it as a game and more like a job?”

“When I was sixteen,” Dean said. “My dad and I were working a job down in Florida, and I made a mistake. A real stupid one too. And it got someone killed.” He looked away, out the window, and I could see his shoulders tense, like he was fighting away an onrush of feelings.

I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder, waiting until he turned to look at me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. 

Dean shook his head. “S’ok,” he said. He gave me a smile to tell me he was fine, but in the back of my mind I knew he was lying. “But you get my idea. It’s fine to have fun on the job; some of the things you gotta do. But the job itself? Never let your guard down, and always take it seriously.”

I nodded. “Aye, aye, captain,” I responded. We both chuckled.

I glanced out the window. The sun was setting, but it still had a ways to go yet.

“Cas can’t dig that grave till the sun goes down, can he?” I asked.

“Generally no,” said Dean. “But Casper the not so friendly ghost is active now, so we gotta make an exception. Angels have good stamina, he’ll get the grave done faster, and he can just fly outta there if he gets caught.”

I nodded. “How long do you think he’ll be?” I asked.

Dean checked his watch. “About a half hour.”

I nodded. A half hour. I was bored already.

“Here,” Dean handed me a small leather bag.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s an anti-possession… thing.” Dean grimaced at his lack of better words. “Bobby showed us how to make em. I can’t bring you to a tattoo parlor without the FBI showing up, so this’ll have to do.”

I nodded and stuffed the small bag in my pocket. “Thanks,” I said. Dean nodded.

He fiddled with the radio, jumping from station to station. I watched with amusement as he winced and muttered remarks about the music on each one, chuckling as he finally   
gave up and hit the power button on the radio.

“What sort of crap was that?” he asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “I’m more into rock.”

Dean grinned over at me. “Alright,” he crowed. “My kinda girl.” He paused. “Hold on. How do you like rock and _The Notebook_?”

“I can’t like more than one genre?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dean said. “I just don’t get it.”

“Have you ever watched it?” I asked. Dean pursued his lips.

“No,” he admitted. 

I grinned. “Then tonight, after we’re finished with this case, we’re all watching it. _Then you can judge it._ ”

A half hour later Cas and Sam appeared. After shoving the gas and shovel into the trunk of the car they climbed into the back.

“We good?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” came Cas’s response. Dean nodded and started the car, then pulled out into the street.

“Please tell me we’re getting food now,” I said. Dean glanced over.

“Are you hungry?”

“Just a little,” I said. I made sure the sarcasm in my voice was very clear. 

Dean chuckled.

“So what now?” asked Sam. “You wanna spend the night in town?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Lucy wants us to watch a movie.”

Sam glanced over at me, wary. “What movie.”

“ _The Notebook_.” Dean’s response sounded like he’d rather stab himself in the eye. Behind me Sam groaned.

“Hey, hey,” I defended myself. “You’ve never seen the movie. Don’t judge it yet.”

“I’ve already seen it,” pointed out Cas.

“You can see it again,” I told him.

“Do we have to?” asked Sam. I nodded.

“Yep.”

I resisted the urge to punch the three Winchesters as they groaned in dismay.


	6. Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! So I've finally included in the story notes/ info/ whatever it is that this story is 32 chapters long. Not to worry though, I have a one-shot and a sequel that I'm working on. So if you like this story, which I really hope you do, there's more to read after.  
> Thank you so much to everyone who's read this. Enjoy!

Two days later the four of us were sitting in a field intersected by the highway, chatting idly. The stars were out, the moon was bright, and everything was peaceful. 

I wasn’t expecting it to last.

Sam, Dean, and Cas were filling me in on some of the stupider things they’d done over the years, and the four of us were laughing like a bunch of fools. As we spoke, I managed to combine what I’d learned of them during our time spent together with what I’d seen on my show to discern a few valuable insights.

Cas, although given a good approximation of modern culture by Metatron’s extensive story knowledge, was still extremely naïve. And he wasn’t very interested in expanding his knowledge. He was happy as an angel, despite having a more human emotion palette. He seemed to be trying to combine the best of heaven and earth inside of himself. Maybe, I guessed, finding that middle ground between the two species, human and angel, was how he coped with everything he’d been through. He was a part of both worlds, yet not so much a part of either that he could claim one or the other as his screwed up home.

Dean was still in many ways the cocky older brother who’d broken into his little brother’s apartment so many years ago to enlist his help in tracking down their missing dad. He still loved their father’s car, spending his free time carefully checking its tires and engine and a bunch of other mechanical stuff that I didn’t know about. He still loved to spend his nights at the local bar, conducting his own side research on how many cheesy pick-up lines he needed to use in order to woe some girl into bed. He _loved_ to drink. Every night, no matter where we were, he ended with a bottle of beer, and he never turned down a slice of pie. And he still cared about his Sammy.

But not in the same way. He had realized that Sammy had come into his own, and he had seen far too much darkness in his little brother over the years to see him as the sweet little kid who’d depended on him growing up. Just like Dean had seen too much of his own darkness to be as lightweight as he had been. Now there was a sort of weight to him, like he’d seen the end of the tunnel and knew there was no light.

Sam too, was different. He still was the brains of the group, the hacker, the walking encyclopedia, (though I found that while Sam was more book smart, knowing facts and figures, Dean was the one who had Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter debates with me.) But Sam wasn’t the kind, gentle young man intent on leaving behind the world of hunting he’d once been. He didn’t want to settle down with a pretty wife, pretty kids, pretty home, and pretty law degree. He’d gone from running away from the life he’d grown up in to embracing it fully. 

At least I assumed so. Could you ever know with those two? Every time one of them vanished, to hell, to purgatory, you name it, by the time they got back, the other had settled down. Still, Sam seemed to have rejected the idea of romance at this point, embracing the darkness with open arms. His one true love was burning corpses and devils traps. And Dean seemed to think that he put a curse on anyone he dared to care about.

So in total, you had a disconnected angel who didn’t know he was lost, a border line alcoholic older brother with severe emotional issues, and a psychopathic little brother that didn’t know how far over the line he’d crossed.

I decided that before I left them, whenever that was, I would need to fix them. 

The question was how. I highly doubted they would appreciate me telling them how damaged they were, and they would probably think they were better off in their current states.

I turned my head as Dean’s deep guffaw echoed to my left. He was leaning back against the front bumper of the car, a bottle of beer in one hand. Sam was next to him, and I couldn’t help but smile as he unconsciously imitated his older brother’s position. Old habits die hard.

Cas was sitting cross legged in the grass a few feet away. He chuckled at Sam’s joke, whatever it was, looking like the awkward youngest brother who didn’t quite know what his place was. I suppose it fit him.

I wondered what that made me. I hadn’t had any more fights with them, but at the same time I knew I would only be staying until they could get home. The moment they found a wormhole leading back to their universe they’d forget all about me. And it wasn’t like I had been through some great ordeal with them. I hadn’t helped to stop the apocalypse, or leviathan, or even Metatron. I had no history. I wasn’t family, just some kid they were stuck babysitting until they could get rid of me.

The thought brought tears to my eyes, and I turned my face back up to the stars, hoping that none of them saw my expression. The sky was beautiful, the black night polka dotted by little pinpricks of light. I tried to focus on it, tried to wipe away my worry, my doubt, every single negative feeling that I’d been having since I’d first woken up in that motel room. It didn’t work.

What was my family doing now? Were they slaving over flyers with my name and picture, hanging them up everywhere they went? Did my parents walk in the door expecting to hear me blaring my music from my room, only to be greeted instead by silence? Did my brother and sister still start down the hall to my room when they needed help with homework, only to remember as they reached the door that there was no one on the other side to help?

I didn’t know if I wanted that. Maybe I wanted them to have moved on, to have forgotten me. I didn’t know when I would be going back, or if I even would be. For all I knew, I wouldn’t live long enough. Maybe they should move on, instead of waiting their whole lives for me to turn up.

But I was selfish. And that selfish part of me didn’t want them to move on. It wanted them to be sitting at the kitchen table, crying and begging for me to come home to them. It wanted for me to walk in the door and to be tackled by them, all at once. For them to never stop caring. Never stop looking. Even if they had to look forever.

My reverie was interrupted as something hit my arm. It was a bundled up piece of plastic wrap, once containing a sandwich. I turned my head to see Dean and Sam looking at my inquisitorially. 

“You ok?” Sam asked.

I nodded. “Yeah,” I lied. “Just tired.” I faked a yawn for their benefit. “How long until we hit Chicago?”

“That’s what we were just talking about.” Cas’s voice came from my right, and I tilted my head to glance at him. “It’ll take at least twenty four hours.”

“At least?” I pushed myself up, wincing as the motion upset the wound in my shoulder. I settled into the same position as Cas, sitting so that I could see all three of them at once.

Dean shrugged. “Depends on traffic,” he said. 

I rolled my eyes.

“I still don’t understand why we can’t just have Cas zap us there. Let’s fly. We could be there in five seconds!”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t do flying,” he said. 

I rolled my eyes. He was such a baby sometimes.

“So, why are we headed there again?” I asked.

Dean sighed. “There’ve been several killings, and each crime scene reeks of sulfur. Demons.”

I nodded. I was surprised they were bringing me to the city. Part of me was expecting them to lock me in a motel room somewhere until they’d handled the demons.

“And you’re not leaving the motel room until we’re through there,” Dean added. “You’ll be in a different motel than us; Cas’ll fly there to bring you whatever you need. This way no   
one knows where you are. I don’t want you getting involved in this.”

Well, I had been expecting something of the sort. I crossed my arms, doing my best not to wince as I did, and leveled my deadliest glare at Dean.

“That is not going to happen,” I declared.

Dean’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah, it is.” 

“You’ve never done this to anyone else,” I defended. “You are not locking me away in some motel room, all by myself. Why do you think I’m going to get hurt? Is it because I’m a girl?”

“No.” Dean’s jaw was locked; he didn’t want to have this argument. “It’s because you got stabbed in the shoulder by a demon. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

I could feel my anger building inside of me. “I don’t need you to keep me safe,” I hissed. “I can handle myself.”

“Lucy,” interjected Sam. “You’re weak right now. Once you’re better it won’t be like this.”

“But you did get stabbed,” finished Cas. 

“And whose fault was that?” I yelled. The words exploded out of me, driven by fury and pain and guilt that had been held inside of me for far too long. “I got hurt protecting you!” I stabbed my finger at Dean.

As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Wished I could take it back. But it was far too late. Dean’s face blanched, turning white. He stood, and god help me I thought I saw him tremble as he did.

“You don’t think I know that?” His voice was dead calm as he spoke, but I could hear the turmoil underneath. “You don’t think I don’t know that everything that’s happened to you is my fault?” His voice broke, and he turned away, stomping away from us. He flung the beer bottle, and it shattered against the ground. He kept walking.

“Dean.” Sam stood, staring after his brother. Dean didn’t stop, didn’t look back. “Dean!” Sam trotted after his brother’s retreating figure.

I felt anchored to where I sat. Cas and I stared after the brothers, watching them move farther away. Guilt swam up inside me. How could I say that to him? I knew how he viewed everything, knew he already had an Atlas’s burden complex. But I had to go shove it in his face. Remind him of something that was already eating him up inside. All I had done since I’d met the three Winchesters was cause them more grief. Suddenly I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Lucy.” I could feel Cas’s eyes on me as I stood, walking in the opposite direction of Dean. As I moved farther away he stood, starting after me. “Lucy come back!”

I ran. I ignored Cas’s calling behind me, sprinting away from him, from them. Towards the edge of the field the grass blended into a forest. I made my way to where the trees began, only one thought in my head. To get away.

I bolted straight in. Pushing off roots and crunching branches underfoot, I ignored the whip of debris against me. I was sprinting now, using the thin sliver of moonlight that had managed to leak down to see where I was going. In the back of my mind, I hoped that even that didn’t leave me. Without it, I would surely crash face first into a tree.

But even with the moon, there wasn’t enough light, and I was moving far too fast among far too many protruding roots. One caught my foot, tripping me, and I went down hard.  
I grunted as I hit the ground, skidding in dirt and leaves. I reached forward instinctively as I fell, trying to catch myself, and ended up slamming hands first into the ground. The fall jolted my shoulder, and I was glad that the wind had been knocked out of me, so that my scream came out as a choked whimper.

I rolled onto my side, staring upwards. Above me all I could see was small green shapes rustling gently with the breeze. I felt deflated suddenly, devoid of energy. My guilt was rising again, stronger than ever, painful now. I didn’t know what was worse, the ball it had formed in my stomach, which was now sending tendrils to snake out and twist through the rest of my body, or the pain in my shoulder. 

Suddenly it all rushed upward, and before I knew what was happening, I was sobbing. I curled into a ball, trying to ignore the pain in my shoulder. I tried to stop crying, but the effort only sent forth a new wrack of sobs.

“Lucy!” 

I ignored Cas as he called for me; I could barely hear him over my ragged breaths. All I could focus on was my sobbing. It was pathetic, I realized. I didn’t cry. And here I was, curled up on the forest floor sobbing like an idiot because I couldn’t have my way. The realization only made my blubbering worse.

“Lucy!”

A spray of dirt hit me as Cas skidded to a stop next to me, dropping to his knees. He must have found me by following the bawling.

I tensed, though still crying, expecting him to lay into me. It was only right. I’d screwed up and hurt Dean. Then I’d gone running off like a five year old. And I still couldn’t stop crying.

Needless to say, I was more than surprised when Cas pulled me against him, cradling me against his chest.

“It’s ok,” he soothed. He rocked me back and forth, letting my sobs soak his shirt. I wrestled away from him, falling against the ground. 

“Why?” I asked, my words coming through strangled sobs. “Why are you doing this?”

Cas was sitting on his knees, covered in dirt and soaking wet with my tears. He was going to need to buy a change of clothes. Yet he looked down at me with nothing more than complete kindness, looking for all the world like his sole wish was to chase away my unhappiness. At my words his face scrunched up in confusion, then a sad look took over his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “We didn’t mean to keep you with us against your will.”

My eyes flew open. He had it completely wrong. 

“No,” I moaned. “I like being here, with you, I…” I trailed off, unable to continue. Now I’d gone and made Cas think that they’d upset me. My sobbing intensified.

“Then why are you upset?” Cas asked. He pulled my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eyes. I did my best to look down, around me, anywhere but at him.

“Because I hurt Dean,” I said. “You guys have been keeping me safe, and I’m acting like a brat. Why did you bother coming after me? I’m not worth it.” I pulled away, not wanting to be comforted. 

Cas disagreed. He grabbed me and pulled me against him. I fought, lashing out as I tried to break free. Then suddenly I stopped. I didn’t have the energy for fighting, and it was only making my shoulder hurt. Dean had been right about that. My sobbing came stronger than ever.

Cas let me cry on him, his hand coming up to stroke my hair. I clung to him tightly, grabbing his trench coat with my hands. It was probably hurting him. My sobbing was most likely making him uncomfortable, or his sitting positon on the ground, or even the lake I was depositing on his shirt. Either way, he didn’t complain.

We stayed like that, until my sobbing started to cease. Little by little, it came to an end. The sobbing slowed, then I was doing no more than hiccupping, tears still coming down my face. Then even the tears, and finally the hiccupping were gone. 

I pulled back and wiped my hand across my face, smearing dirt across it. I looked up at Cas, his blue eyes watched me kindly, patiently.

“I’m sorry,” I blubbered.

“Don’t be.” His hand came up to wipe a fresh tear from my face, catching it as it came down from my eye.

I looked behind him, back towards where the clearing was. Had Sam and Dean returned to the car? How angry were they with me- they had to be. Would they even want me to come back? How the hell was I supposed to look them in the eyes again?

The thought made me tremble. I fought back new tears, automatically curling inward. I was ashamed and tired and in pain, and all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and hide. 

Cas sensed my emotions. He pulled me against him again, and I let him hug me to him. His presence comforted me, calmed me. And to my relief, as I curled up in his arms, I drifted into sleep.

* * * * 

I woke feeling rested, more rested than I had in days. I blinked and stretched groggily, enjoying the feel of the morning sun on my cheeks. Then I remembered what had occurred the night before, and instantly my good mood vanished.

Had I really done all that? I resisted the urge to curl into a ball, shame riding over me like a wave. How was I supposed to face them?

“Lucy?” I forced myself to open my eyes as Cas approached, kneeling in front of me. “Time to get up,” he said softly.

I nodded, but stayed where I was. I was afraid to face the brothers. Cas met my eyes, giving me an encouraging smile. He would stay near me. I felt relief blossom over me, giving me a bit of strength, and I crawled out from under my blanket.

Sam and Dean were sitting near the front of the car, silently munching on sandwiches. As I approached Sam tossed me one, and I sat and tore the plastic wrap off. No one spoke.  
I forced myself to look around. Everyone was staring downward as they ate, or off to the side. Anywhere but at each other. Cas stood a few feet away, watching the sun rise, but I could tell he was waiting for something to happen with us.

Half an hour later we were ready to leave. Sam and Cas were loading everything into the car, leaving Dean and I alone. I couldn’t help but feel that they’d planned that. 

Dean was sitting against the front hood, looking towards the forest. I glanced over at it, then quickly averted my gaze. I didn’t want to be reminded of the spectacle I’d made there last night, of the blubbering that Cas had needed to calm. I hoped he hadn’t told the others.

Still, I needed to do something about Dean. It wasn’t good that he was ignoring me, and it was my fault in the first place. I needed to make things right.

I stepped forward, towards him, wringing my hands. What was I going to say? Dean didn’t show any sign of noticing me, keeping his gaze firmly planted on the trees. I knew he was acting.

“Dean.” I edged closer, stuffing my hands in my pockets. Dean turned to face me, wariness on his face. I glanced down.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I twisted the fabric inside my pockets, my face heating up. “I’m sorry for what I said last night. What happened isn’t your fault. I know you’re trying to look out for me. I’m sorry.” I stopped. I was starting to repeat myself. I didn’t know how to start again, to make him understand how sorry I really was. My lip trembled.

“It’s fine. Hey, hey,” Dean stepped forward and lifted my chin as I shook, and I averted my eyes. I hated how my cheeks were reddening, hated how my eyes were filling with tears. 

“Lucy, look at me,” Dean ordered. I forced myself to meet his gaze, steady, apple green eyes. Dean gave me a reassuring smile. 

“It’s ok,” he said. “I’m sorry too.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I mumbled. _Don’t cry,_ I told myself. _Don’t cry._

Dean shook his head. “I shouldn’t have stormed off like that,” he told me. “I should’ve stayed and talked with you then.”

“What?” I shook my head. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I did.” I was starting to get annoyed. Did he not see that? The man was determined to blame everything on himself.

Dean laughed. “Look at us. Even when we’re making up we can’t stop fighting.”

I chuckled timidly. “Yeah,” I sniffled.

Dean’s eyes twinkled. “Let’s forget about it,” he suggested. I nodded, and he pulled me into a hug. It wasn’t the same as Cas’s had been the previous night. This was the hug that a big brother gave you. I found it impossible not to return it.

“Alright!” Dean clapped me on the back and moved to the driver’s seat of the car. Cas and Sam slammed the trunk shut, realizing that there was nothing more for them to eavesdrop on. They looked pleased. 

“We ready?” Dean asked.

“Ready,” replied Sam. He ducked his head as he pulled himself into the car next to his brother, and Cas settled in the seat next to me. Dean jiggled with the wires, and the car roared to life.

The brothers made an extra effort to include me in the conversation that day, joking and laughing with me as we drove. They were trying to put me back at ease, put aside the events of the previous night. 

It worked. By the time we pulled into Chicago late that night everything was back to normal. We stopped at a drive through for dinner, pulling into a parking space to eat.

“We’re still doing what I said last night,” Dean called from the front. 

I nodded; I had expected as much. Not that I was happy about it, but I knew that Dean wasn’t going to change his mind, and I didn’t want to have a repeat of the previous night. 

“Where am I staying?” I asked.

* * * * 

“Ok,” said Dean. “We’ll be on the other side of the city. So if anything tracks us down to our room, it wouldn’t think to look for you here.”

I nodded. “And you’ll check in with me?” I asked. I didn’t want to be left in the dark about what was going on, and although I’d never admit it, I was a tiny bit afraid of being by myself in a city full of demons.

Dean nodded. “I’ll keep you updated,” he said. “Cas is gonna have to stay with us, the demons know he’s in this world with us, and if they realize he’s staying somewhere else they’re gonna know something’s up. But I’ll have him check on you every hour.”

I nodded, relieved. Once an hour. What could go wrong in an hour?

I ignored the tiny voice in the back of my head that was compiling a list.

Cas returned with a set of room keys, handing one to me. “You’re room 12,” he stated. I nodded and grabbed my bag from the car, slinging it over my shoulder. I turned to the others.

“Be careful, ok?” I said. Sam, Dean, and Cas nodded in turn, each giving me some form of an encouraging smile. I sighed and crossed the parking lot to the room, inserting the key into the lock and twisting it. The door clicked open. 

I locked the door behind me, dropping my bag on the floor and moving to the window. Sam, Dean, and Cas had been waiting by the car to see that I’d gotten inside alright, but now they turned away, climbing into the car and pulling out of the parking lot. I bit my lip, shoving down the feeling of dread that was rising in my stomach.


	7. Hiding

I watched the car pull out of the parking lot, turning onto the busy Chicago streets. Soon the taillights were lost among countless others.

I sighed, turning and hitting the lights to the room. It was plain, boring, just like every other motel room I’d been in. Yellow walls and ceilings, with a beige carpet decorating the floor. A table on the left side of the room had two chairs, simple, with no carvings. A dresser on the center of the wall had a flat screen TV. At least there was that. There were two beds in the room, with a nightstand in between. I’d only need one.

I moved down the hall, noting the coat closet to the right, and turned on the bathroom lights. It wasn’t very clean, and I crinkled my nose, put off more than a little. I turned the lights back off and closed the door.

I picked my bag up, hesitating between the two beds. Which one should I sleep in? On the one hand, if I needed to make a quick getaway I should choose the one next to the door. But at the same time, I would have more time to get out of bed if someone came in if I was further from the door. With a sigh I tossed my bag on the bed further from the door.

I opened the bag, pulling out a change of clothes and my toiletries. I took a shower, scrubbing the dirt off my body as best as I could. It was hard to do with only one arm; my shoulder was still hurting from the previous night. I’d tried not to move it much during the day, not very hard when all day was spent in a car, and hadn’t told the boys. 

I dressed quickly, struggling to pull on my shirt. In the end I managed, and curled up on my bed with a granola bar, flipping through TV channels.

“How are you?”

I jumped as Cas spoke from the side of the room, yelping. Cas moved forward, frowning. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” I said. I laughed shakily; I needed to get a grip on myself. Nothing was going to find me here; we had only gone to all this trouble so that I would be _out_ of danger.

Still, I remembered all too clearly the last demon I’d seen. I could remember its hand around my neck, slowly squeezing the life out of me. The bruises were only just fading.

“Did you guys get settled in somewhere?” I asked. Cas nodded.

“Here.” He wrote an address down on a slip of paper, handing it to me. “Don’t come to the motel unless something finds you. Don’t leave the room either, and don’t open the door. I’ll always just fly in.”

I nodded. “Anything else?” I asked. Cas nodded and pulled something out of his pocket. A burner phone.

“Don’t use this unless it’s an emergency,” he said. He handed it to me, and I flipped to the contacts. Sam, Dean, and Cas’s numbers were already programmed in.

I nodded. “Thanks.” 

Cas nodded.

“How’s the hunt going?” I asked. “Did you find anything?”

Cas shook his head. “We haven’t had a chance to look yet. We just got to the motel.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

Cas shook his head. “Just wait here,” he said. I sighed and nodded.

“How’s your shoulder?” Cas pointed to my arm, which I was unconsciously rubbing. I shrugged my good arm.

“Not bad,” I said. “A bit sore.” 

Cas nodded. “I was worried you’d hurt it last night,” he said. His blue eyes probed mine. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” I stood, avoiding his gaze, and fiddled with my bag, which I had moved to the table. “I’m fine. They haven’t said-”

“No.” Cas stood and faced me. “They’ve already forgotten it,” he assured me. 

I nodded, not convinced.

Cas sighed. “I have to go,” he said. He stood. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

I nodded. “Tell Sam and Dean thanks for me.” I wagged the phone, and Cas nodded. “And remind them to be careful,” I added. Cas nodded again.

“Oh, and Cas?” I looked Cas straight in the eyes this time. “Thank you. For everything.” I wanted him to know I remembered the previous night.

Cas nodded again, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Of course,” he said. He raised his hand in a two fingered wave, then was gone.

I sighed. Alone again. This was going to get boring fast. I grabbed the remote and changed the channel. I didn’t know what was on the screen, but it didn’t look interesting.

I stayed awake for another two hours. I know because that’s the amount of times I remember Cas popping in. He didn’t stay long either time, just long enough to make sure I was doing alright. 

I asked him about the case, and he told me that they hadn’t gotten anywhere. They would need to check out the crime scenes the next day. I sighed and reiterated my warning for them to be careful.

I woke the next morning with the sun filtering through the window, the rays warm against my skin. I pushed myself up and looked around me. I was alone.

I glanced to the nightstand, where there was a small clock. **7:15** it read. I groaned and flopped back on the pillow.

I was just about to fall asleep again when Cas appeared, a breakfast burrito in hand. I pushed myself up, diving into the food as Cas waited patiently for me to finish, standing against the wall. I took my time, knowing that the longer I took, the longer he would need to stay. Yeah, I was that selfish.

“So,” I licked my fingers, standing and bringing the wrapper to the garbage can. “What’s up?”

Cas smiled, amused. “You’re bored,” he guessed.

I glared at him, pushing hair out of my face. “I’m stuck in the same room for god knows how long until you three can get rid of however many demons there are in this city. Yeah, I’m bored.”

Cas chuckled. “Sorry.”

I waved him off. “It’s ok.” I was determined not to throw another temper tantrum like the one two nights ago. “Have you gotten anywhere yet?”

Cas shook his head. “We’re about to start,” he said. “I’ll let you know when we find anything.”

I sighed and nodded, crawling back onto the bed. It seemed like I was gonna be stuck here for a while.

I spent the day leafing through the channels, then took a very long nap. When I woke Cas was standing quietly in the corner, a pizza box in his hand.

“Jeez,” I exclaimed. “How long have you been standing there?”

“A few minutes,” he said.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked.

Cas set the box down on the table. “You were asleep,” he said. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m spending all my time with you three. I’m already disturbed.”

Cas smiled, lifting the box’s lid. The smell of cheese and grease floated over to me, making my stomach growl. I padded across the room.

“Is that double cheese?” I asked. 

“Yes,” Cas replied. I tore a slice off and bit in, closing my eyes as I savored the taste. It had been a while since I’d had pizza.

Cas chuckled at my face, and I scowled at him. “Why’d you bring me the whole box?” I asked. “What about Sam and Dean?”

“They have their own box,” Cas told me. “This for you.”

I frowned. “Does this mean you’re not coming back for a while?” I asked.

Cas shook his head. “No,” he said. “I thought you might like some leftovers.”

I smiled softly. “Thank you,” I said. 

Cas nodded.

“So,” I drew out a seat as I ate, gesturing for Cas to take the other one. “What have you found out?”

Cas sighed. “There doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern,” he said. “Nothing that suggests the demons are up to something big. It seems like they’re just causing mayhem.”

My eyebrows rose. “All of them? At once? In the same city?”

“We know,” Cas said. “Something’s not right. We’re just not sure what yet.”

I nodded. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do?” I asked. Cas nodded, a smile on his face.

“Just stay out of trouble,” he told me. 

I rolled my eyes. “Well, there go my motor biking plans for later.” 

Cas chuckled and stood. “I’ll be back in-”

“Back in an hour, I know.” I shot Cas a grin. “Tell the boys I said hi.”

Cas nodded, and then he was gone.

I sighed. I was really getting tired of being alone. I settled for another slice of pizza.

For lack of anything better to do I took a shower. When I finished I pulled back on the clothes I’d been wearing; I had nothing else clean. A few minutes later Cas popped back in. 

“Am I allowed to leave the room to do laundry?” I asked. I pointed to a plastic bag on the bed, containing all my dirty clothes.

Cas shook his head. “We’ll take care of it,” he said. I rolled my eyes and nodded.

“Do you have anything new?” I asked.

Cas took his time before replying in the form of a single nod. His eyes were now troubled. I frowned, worry growing inside me.

“Ok,” I asked. “So what is it?”

Cas sighed. “I’m feeling… things,” he said. “The same things that I was feeling before the first wormhole appeared,” he elaborated quickly.

I nodded. “So is it going to open again here?” I asked.

Cas nodded. “Most likely.”

I did my best to keep my face stoic, considering what he said. The wormhole was finally going to open up again. They could go back to their universe, and I could go home. Home. I felt a longing rising up inside of me, aching for my family. Yet why did I feel a sense of dread?

I choked back whatever emotions I was feeling. I could deal with them later. “Well, that explains all the demons,” I told Cas. “They must be able to feel it too. They’re getting ready to go home.”

Cas nodded. His blue eyes moved up and down my face, trying to discern my emotions from it. Well, he wasn’t getting anything. I kept my face blank, until finally the angel gave up.

“Yes,” he said. He stood. “I have to get back. I’ll see you in an hour.” 

I nodded. “See you.”

After Cas left, I dug around in my bag for the anti-possession baggie that Dean had given me. I frowned, unable to find it. Moving to my jacket, I searched its pockets. Nothing.

I sat on the bed, thinking back. When was the last time I remembered seeing it? It had been the other night, just before my fight with Dean. I let out a stream of curses. It must have fallen out of my pocket in the woods.

I whirled around when a knock came at the door. 

Who was at the door? I highly doubted it was Sam or Dean, they would just fly in with Cas. And either way, Cas had just left. 

My heart pounded as I reached for the pocket knife Dean had given me. I unfolded it carefully, trying to quiet my heavy breathing. Maybe whoever was outside would think that no one was in.

The knock came again. “Hello?” called a voice. “This is the manager. Is anyone in?”

A key clicked in the door, and I bolted forward, slamming myself against it. 

“What the-” the manager pushed against the door, and I gritted my teeth as pain shot through my shoulder.

“One minute,” I called. “I’m getting dressed.”

Immediately the pressure on the door ceased. “Sorry,” came the response.

I waited a minute before opening the door, thankful that my hair was still wet from my shower. As I did I kept the chain lock in place, just in case. A balding, middle aged gentleman stood in the doorway. He was shorter than me, which was saying something. He seemed a bit sheepish about almost walking in on a teenage girl getting dressed.

“Are you staying for tomorrow?” he asked, his voice resonating with a thick Italian accent. I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms, ignoring the pain in my shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Most likely. Why?”

“I need the money,” he said.

I frowned. The boys hadn’t left me any cash. 

“I don’t have it,” I said.

“You owe me money,” the manager said. His eyes narrowed.

“No, I don’t,” I realized. “I read your pamphlet.” I pointed behind me, to where it rested on the table. “I don’t owe you a penny till ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

The manager grumbled, looking like he was fighting back some unpleasant words. “Have it for me then,” he demanded.

I nodded and rolled my eyes. “Have a good night.” I swung the door shut and locked it again.

I sat on the bed, resting back against the pillows. I had stacked the ones from the other bed with mine, so I had extra cushioning. 

I needed to sort through the upcoming departure. Sam, Dean, and Cas would be going home. Back to their universe, to all the other angels and demons, to whatever new big plot event awaited them there. What would it be?

Never mind that, I had my own problems to worry about. After they left I would need to get home. I didn’t really feel like stealing a car was the way to go. I decided I could just walk into the nearest police station and tell them who I was. They would handle the rest.

The problem was though, they would want to know what had happened to me. Who had taken me and why, how I had ended up in Chicago, these were all questions I would need answers for. 

Maybe I could tell them I didn’t remember. It was the simplest way to go. As long as I kept where my memory dropped off consistent, and didn’t change any facts up until then, there was no way they could disprove anything I’d said. 

That settled, I moved on to the harder bit. Why was there a part of me that didn’t want to go home? It was a question I had no answer to. Even after nearly an hour, I fell asleep with the question still tumbling around in my head. 

_Knock, knock, knock, knock._

I woke to a pounding on my door. Sitting up groggily, I pulled the string on the lamp that would turn on the light. Beside me the clock read **11:21**. Cas had been here nearly a half hour ago. 

And he’d left me clothes. A small pile, folded neatly, had been set on the other bed. I smiled softly.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock._

I glanced towards the door. Who the hell was there at this time of night? I grabbed the pocket knife from the nightstand, rising to my feet.

“Who is it?” I called. I winced at the tremor to my voice, then compensated by holding the knife at a better angle. At least I hoped it was a better angle.

“Open up please.” I instantly recognized the heavy accent of the manager. 

I sighed, folding the knife and sticking it in my pocket as I made my way to the door. “I told you, I don’t have your-”

I stopped as the door opened. The manager grinned up at me with a sardonic expression, eyes as black as the night sky behind him.

I tried to slam the door shut, but the demon stopped it easily. A grin split its face as it thrust its hand forward, easily breaking the chain on the door as it slammed open.

I backed away, scanning around me. Where was that damn phone? With trembling fingers I pulled the pocket knife out of my pocket, holding it in front of me.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warned.

The demon laughed, striding up to me. I slashed with the knife, and the demon caught my wrist, twisting until the blade fell from my fingers. Then it threw me.

I crashed into the nightstand, crying out as I collided with solid wood. I landed on my stomach, on the floor, but before I could stand up the demon was there, lifting me by my neck.

I groped out, searching for something, anything I could use as a weapon. I managed to grab the lamp, swinging it down on the demon’s head as hard as I could. It stumbled, losing its grip on my throat just enough for me to tear my way free.

I crawled away, grabbing the knife from where it had fallen. As the demon came at me again I stabbed upward, knowing it would do no good, a pocket knife was no use against a demon. Still, I felt a flicker of hope inside me as the knife sank up to the hilt in the demon’s chest. I stood and bolted for the door.

The demon grabbed me, throwing me again. This time I crashed into the TV, shattering its screen. Before I could move the demon grabbed me again, throwing me on the floor in front of my bed. Its mouth opened.

Black smoke issued out, billowing around its head. I watched in openmouthed amazement as it did, then with horror realized what was next. I clamped my hands over my mouth, over my nose, but it was no good. The smoke rushed forward, squeezing between the cracks between my fingers and up through my nostrils, into my mouth. I gagged and sputtered, choking on it. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t think.

Then it was over. I was lying flat on my back in the motel room, looking up at the cracked yellow ceiling. I tried to assess the damage to my body. Everything hurt. I was sure I would need stitches. When I tried to move though, I couldn’t.

I panicked. Why couldn’t I move? I thrashed, all to no avail. I cried and screamed, but no sound came out of my mouth. Somewhere someone was laughing. Who was it? Who would laugh at this?

Then I realized who it was. Me. 

As soon as the realization struck, my body started to move. Yet I wasn’t moving it. Even still, my body got to its feet, looking around me. My eyes surveyed the room. It was wrecked, the lamp and TV smashed. The manager was lying on the floor, unmoving.

My body started walking. Not out of the room, but further in, towards the bathroom. It wanted me to see something. The door opened, the handle moved by my hand, but I hadn’t willed my hand to move. 

I could see my figure silhouetted in the mirror. My hand reached up, again, not by my doing, to turn on the switch, and I stared in horror at the face in the mirror.

It was my face. I recognized it clearly. It was covered in blood, but it was still mine. Nothing was different except the eyes. My eyes were black.

I screamed. I screamed and screamed, to no avail. The only thing that could hear me was the demon staring back at me. And as I screamed, it laughed.


	8. The Day I'd Really Like to Forget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just want to post a quick warning here: this chapter is a bit gorier than usual.There's definitely some gory stuff in Supernatural and in Supernatural fics, but I feel like this chapter is a bit worse than the usual. (i.e. torture- sorry, but that would probably be a demon's idea of a good time, and Lucy did end the last chapter possessed.) So I just want to put out a little warning, in case anyone doesn't like that sort of stuff or if anyone has any triggers caused by it.  
> Sorry if this is a problem for anyone. If it is send me a message and I can try to come up with a less gory version to send to you.  
> Hope you enjoy though!

_Starry Night._ I had always loved the painting, done by Vincent van Gogh in 1889. I loved his unique style of painting, the way he’d done the stars, not as tiny pinpricks, but as smudged orbs in the sky. I loved how he showed the wind, by smearing a winding pattern of white into the blue and black sky he’d painted. It seemed the philosophy of Van Gogh had been the more the better.

I pictured the painting now, outlining the image in my mind. I focused on the colors, the designs, on every little detail. I wanted it to be the only thing in my head.

I knew that the demon would be able to see what was in my mind. And there was a lot of stuff in there that I didn’t want it to see. Stuff about me, about my family, about the Winchesters. I couldn’t let it glean anything it could use from my thoughts.

So, I ignored everything around me. I ignored the images coming through my eyes, what my ears were hearing, what my body was feeling. I wouldn’t be able to move my body anyways. 

I had no idea if it was working. No idea if the demon, if it were to look in my head, would see anything more than the details of that painting. Could it still decipher all my secrets, all of Sam, Dean, and Cas’s? I had no idea. But I still had to try.

Eventually, I became adept at holding the picture in my head. I could focus on it with half my mind, leaving the other half free to roam. But I had to be careful. One false move, and the demon would know everything I was fighting to keep hidden.

I took advantage of the fact that my eyes were open, peering out. It now felt like I was peering in someone’s window; taking advantage of someone else’s view. I wasn’t in control of that view, the demon was.

We were inside an apartment building. Judging by the walker sitting to the side and the scent of litter boxes that filled the air, an old lady with a few too many cats lived here. Well, had lived here. I doubted she was still alive. 

Out the window I could see the red brick of the next building. We were at least two floors up. Sunlight filtered through the window, bright enough to at least be noon. I had no idea how much time had passed.

The demon, using my body, was sitting in a kitchen chair, twirling something around in my fingers. A knife. Somewhere in the small corner of my mind that I still had control over, I felt annoyed. It had better not accidentally take one of my fingers off.

Control.

That was it, control. I still had control of one part of my mind. Maybe, if I moved very slowly, very carefully, I could take control of the rest. I could take my body back.

I hid behind the painting as I thought this, not wanting the demon to see. How was I going to manage that? It didn’t feel like it always did in books and movies, where suddenly a person’s mind was a maze that they could walk through. I couldn’t feel a barrier in my mind, a black, sticky wall keeping me from taking control. My thought range felt the same as always. I simply had no control over my body. 

So I would have to wait. Maybe at some point the demon would slip, and I would be able to expand my mind, filling the rest of my brain. Hopefully my chance would come before the demon did anything.

The demon itself was looking up as someone approached from the side. As my eyes, now its eyes, whipped around, I saw that there was a side entrance to the room. In the entranceway stood another demon, in the body of a middle aged man. He offered a cruel smile.

“Your turn,” it declared. I felt the demon inside me grin, rising with a final turn of the knife. The demon sauntered past, into what I guessed was the living room.

Someone- or rather something- had dragged one of the kitchen chairs into the living room. Sitting in it, in the center of the room, was the owner of the apartment we were in. She was old, just as I’d suspected, wrinkles coating her face and arms. Grey hair was cut short, not enough there to hide her blue eyes. Blue eyes that shone with fear and agony. 

Immediately I knew why. The woman was tied to the chair, her hands bound roughly behind her back and a gag tied around her mouth. There were various cuts decorating her body, and blood dripped onto the floor. The demon used my face to grin.

The demon raised the knife, bringing it down in a smooth arc across the woman’s cheek. Blood squirted as she screamed through the cloth that bound her mouth shut.

I forced myself to keep quiet. I had been so for so long now, however long; if I started making noise the demon would know that I was still fighting. When I attacked, I had to have the element of surprise.

So I watched, helpless as the demon used my hand to torture the woman in front of me. I could feel the blade slice through flesh, could feel blood spurt, painting me red. I could see the woman, no longer screaming, was sagging in her chair, devoid of even the energy to sit up straight.

The demons in the room, including the one possessing me, whirled towards the door as it was flung open. Another demon burst in, black eyes wide.

“Winchesters,” it growled. The three other demons growled in disgust, as did the one inside me. It glanced down at the woman in the chair. The demon then shoved her head back; it lolled over the back of the chair, and the demon raised the knife again. The next cut sliced deep into her throat, sending a spray of blood into my face. I resisted the urge to scream into my mind.

The demon left the knife where it was, moving into the kitchen. On the table I saw for the first time several knives, the three edged kind that had first been brought to earth by angels. I knew that since then demons had been taking them off their hands.

The demon in me grabbed one, twirling it through my fingers. One by one, each demon came and picked up a knife, taking their place in the living room of the apartment. The woman, still bound to the chair, was moved out of the way.

A minute later the door burst open. Sam, Dean, and Cas rushed in. Cas had his own angel blade drawn, Dean held the knife they had taken from Ruby so long ago, and Sam had a second angel blade. I had no idea where they’d gotten it from. 

Within moments, their eyes had come to rest on me. I could see their minds working, piecing together the blood that covered me, the knife in my hand. Hurt flashed across their faces, and I had never wanted to cry out so bad, scream and tell them that it was a demon, not me. Suddenly they blanched, and I knew my eyes had turned black. The demon used my voice to laugh.

“Hello boys,” it crowed. It stepped forward, moving towards them. “What do you think of my new look?”

If I had possession of my body, I would’ve ground my teeth. Ok, I would have done more than that. A few curse words, maybe I would have tried to kill the demon myself. 

“Get out of her.” Sam spoke first, his words coming in a half growl. He raised a shotgun that had been stuffed in the waistband of his jeans, containing, I presumed, rock salt. “Get out of her now.”

The demon laughed. Then it flicked my wrist, and Sammy went flying.

“Hey!” Dean’s head spun, watching as Sam slammed into the wall, crushing the glass on the picture frames that were hanging there. The demons used the distraction to dart forward, swinging their knives.

Dean and Cas parried, surprising even me with their reflexes. I scolded myself a second later. They’d had plenty of practice. Even Sam was already getting up, driving his knife into a demon’s chest.

The demon possessing me jumped forward, into the sway of the fight. I felt my arm come up, swinging the knife towards Dean’s chest. He parried and punched out with his other arm. The demon stumbled back, hissing.

Dean followed. His green eyes burned, murder reflected in them. He swung his knife, and this time it was the demon that parried. Now Dean kicked out, his foot catching me in the stomach. I flew backwards, into the kitchen, my shoulder catching on the doorframe. Pain exploded through my arm.

The demon stood within moments, impervious to the pain, and attacked Dean. And so it continued. We continued to move backwards, towards the wall, the demon trying to kill Dean, Dean trying to disarm the demon. I was helpless to the results.

Again, Dean kicked. This time his foot caught me square in the chest. The demon stumbled again, falling back a little too far, with a little too much force. We hit the window, hard, and I heard a shattering.

“Lucy!”

Dean lunged forward as I toppled backwards, grabbing at my ankle. I hung from the side of the building, held in place only by his grip on my jeans. From the upside down view I got, I quickly determined that we were three stories up.

The demon reared up, using abs that I hadn’t known I had, and stabbed at Dean with the knife, which was still in my hand. Instinctively Dean jumped back, releasing my leg as he did. I fell.

I heard a scream, realizing a second later that it was me. The demon was panicking, its mind flickering. I seized the opportunity, pushing outward with my mind.

It felt like someone had pumped my head full of air. My mind was expanding. No it wasn’t, I knew. It was just returning to its normal size, the demon reduced to a nagging pressure in the corner of my head. I was in control again.

I only had a few seconds. As soon as I hit the ground I would most likely pass out, or be paralyzed, and wouldn’t be able to do anything. A few seconds later the demon would take control again. I forced myself not to think about that, not to think about the pain that was in my future. Whatever was left of it that was. I drove the knife in my hand down, into my stomach. As agony exploded through my abdomen, the pressure on the back of my head vanished, exploding in a red hot flash, and I knew that the demon was dead.

Not that it did me much good. A second later I hit the ground. During my fall my legs had drawn level with my head, so my entire body hit the ground at the same time. My head bounced against the pavement, my arms, legs, and torso slamming down. The knife, moving on inertia, was pushed further into my stomach, even as I heard the snap of bones. I screamed.

At least there was sound coming out of my mouth. I had control over my body again. How much, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what was broken and what wasn’t. My body felt like it was on fire, a thousand knives stabbing into it all at once. My vision flickered red. I couldn’t move.

“Lucy!” I could hear Dean screaming my name from above. “Lucy!”

I wanted to tell him to stop, to turn around. Surely another demon was coming up behind him. But I couldn’t see. Even my thoughts were fading, pain blacking out everything but the daggers pounding out a steady rhythm in my body. Or rather reddening out everything.

“Cas!” 

Five seconds later the angel was there, scooping me up in his arms. Suddenly I was being set down again, this time on wood. He’d brought me back up to the apartment.

The knife was yanked out of my stomach. I heard it crash against the wall a moment later. Sam, Dean, and Cas were calling my name, jostling me.

Someone pulled open my eye. So that was why my vision had gone red. It had been the burn of the sun on the inside of my eyelid. I could see the boys, looking down at me, checking for signs of life. Terror was clear on all three of their faces.

But their faces were getting blurry. Even the pain in my body was fading, replaced by a heaviness. I was dying.

“No, no, no.” Sam shook my shoulders. “Come on Lucy, not yet. Stay with us.”

“Lucy.” I knew from years of watching the show that Dean had cupped my face in his hands, bringing it up. Willing me to open my eyes. “Lucy!” His next cry was panicked.

“She’s barely alive.” Cas’s voice sounded like a whisper, yet I doubted it was. I could barely hear anything; I definitely couldn’t feel anymore. I supposed that was nice. At least I wasn’t in pain. It was much nicer to die that way.

They were talking again. Their voices were hurried, excited almost. I didn’t know why. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was like trying to listen to someone while under water. All I heard was sounds.

I screamed as pain flared inside me. It felt like a wave, washing over everything. It started in my chest, spreading outward in a flash, to my head, to my fingers, to my toes.

I lurched upright, gasping. Strong hands grabbed me, steadying me. Instinctively, I leaned against the source. My eyes opened.

“Lucy?”

Deep blue eyes met mine, filled with concern. I panted, pulling away and falling on the floor. “Cas?”

Cas smiled, relief washing over his face. His hand drifted over to brush at my face, moving aside a strand of hair. “Are you ok?” he asked.

I looked down at myself. I was covered in blood, though how much of it was mine I had no idea. But there were no visible cuts on me. I probed my stomach, where the knife had gone in, there was no longer a wound. No glass was embedded in me from the window I’d gone out of, no bones were broken from my fall. Even the wound in my shoulder was completely healed.

I nodded. I was out of breath, reeling from Cas’s healing, and had no idea where we were. But I was alive. I could deal.

“Lucy?” I glanced up to see Sam and Dean standing nervously to the side, watching. Their faces were torn between panic and relief.

I smiled up at them, letting them know I was fine. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey?” Sam looked horrified by my word choice. “Hey?”

Dean laughed, dropping to his knees and pulling me into a hug. I returned it, clenching his old leather jacket in my hands. As soon as he released me Sam dove in, and then Cas, not to be outdone. 

I started to push myself up, but Cas caught me. “Careful,” he warned.

I slanted a glance at him as I staggered to my feet. “I seem to remember you saying that before,” I reminded him. “Didn’t work then either.”

Cas smiled fondly, remembering, as I was, the first time we’d met. Had it really only been just a week and a half ago?

I glanced around. “Where are we?” I asked.

“Home.” Sam’s voice came with an exhale, like he’d doubted he’d ever say those words again. “We’re back in our universe.”

I nodded. Of course. That was how Cas had healed me. I should’ve realized immediately where we were.

“That’s good.” I felt a lump in my throat. Why? Now I could go home. “Good for you.”

“Lucy.” Dean’s voice was dark. I felt a frown twist my face as I turned to him. “The wormhole closed. There’s no way back through. I’m sorry.”


	9. What Now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken so long to update. I've been caught up in work and college trips and having my wisdom teeth pulled. I thought I'd posted this chapter a few days ago, but I think I got sidetracked and forgot to actually put it online. So sorry. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

I felt like Dean had kicked me in the chest again. My knees suddenly felt like jelly, and I fought to keep them from buckling. My breath hitched.

“Lucy?” Sam’s voice echoed with concern. “Are you ok?”

I opened my mouth, probably planning to say something reassuring. No sound came out. I closed my mouth, then tried again.

“I don’t know,” I blurted out. A moment later I winced. That hadn’t been what I was going for.

“Come on.” Cas’s hand was on my arm, putting a gentle pressure on it. “You need some air.”

I nodded, allowing him to lead me out of wherever we were. Behind us I could hear Sam and Dean following.

As soon as the door to the building opened the sun hit me full force in the face. I blinked, now unable to see, staggering more than I had already been. Cas pulled me around the back of the building, so that we were standing in its shadow. I sank down against the rough wood, into grass. 

The wormhole had closed. I was stuck here, stuck in a different universe. I put my head in between my knees.

I was never going to see my family again. They would spend the rest of their lives wondering what had happened to me, and I could never tell them. I could never go home. I felt suddenly very small, and very alone. Something twisted in my gut.

“Lucy?” I glanced up at the sound of Sam’s voice. The three of them were watching me with concern, probably wondering if I would break on them.

I let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah?” I asked. I wiped at my eyes, but to my surprise they were dry.

“You’re in shock,” guessed Sam. He frowned. “It’s gonna hit later, and hit hard,” he warned. 

I nodded.

“Maybe there’s a way back,” Dean added. He offered me a smile. “Another wormhole could open.”

I shook my head. Something told me there wouldn’t be another one.

“Where are we?” I asked. I needed a distraction.

“Montana.” Cas gazed around him. “The wormhole opened back up in the same warehouse.”

I nodded. That was boring. I needed something else to distract me. Maybe if I wasn’t sitting around, I would find something else to think about. I stood shakily, leaning against the wall for support. 

“Let’s get outta here,” I choked.

“Follow me.” Dean started through the grass purposefully, and the rest of us followed. Looking around I saw that the warehouse was in a field. A ways away that field was intersected by a dirt road. To the left the field blended into a forest, into which the road disappeared. Dean began to jog, eager to reach something past the tree line. There, Sam, Dean, and Cas started to pull branches and leaves off a large object. I stepped forward to help.

Within a few minutes, the impala came into sight. The hood was polished a shiny black, the headlights newly cleaned. Dean lovingly brushed a bit of dirt off the side mirror, then dug his keys out of his pocket.

I watched him climb in, noting the almost reverent way he touched the door, the steering wheel. A week and a half was far too long for him to be separated from his baby. The keys turned in the ignition, and the engine sputtered.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Especially seeing Dean’s face. Anticipation had been building in him from the moment his car had come into sight, anticipation that was now not being relieved. It was like blowing up a balloon just so you could pop it, and instead watching as all the air rushed out of the untied stem.

“I don’t suppose you can get Triple A out here?” I asked in between guffaws. Dean glared at me from inside the car. Sam looked like he was holding back laughter of his own.

“No need.” Cas touched his fingers to the front hood of the car. “Try again.”

Dean turned the key again. This time the engine shuddered to life. A grin split Dean’s face, and he looked for all the world like a little boy on Christmas morning.

“You two want some alone time?” Sam asked. Together we chortled. Even Cas chuckled.

Dean climbed out. “We better let her sit for a bit,” he said, ignoring his brother. He picked a pine cone off the ground, lobbing it. It bounced off a tree a few meters away.

I frowned. I didn’t want to wait. I needed to be doing something. If I sat around all my feelings about being trapped in this universe would come rushing back, and I couldn’t deal with those then. I didn’t even know how I felt about that.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” I asked. I scooped up a pine cone myself, tossing it from hand to hand. It felt good to have full access of my left arm again. “How long until we can get out of here?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Dean promised. “Can you wait that long?”

With a huff, I nodded.

True to his word, fifteen minutes later Dean signaled for us to climb into the impala. He and Sam had already checked their store of weapons in the trunk. Really it was more like an arsenal. Guns and knives each had their own place, as well as a bag or two of salt. There were other weapons, things they’d picked up over the years that were unique to killing one specific creature. A devils trap had been painted on the inside of the hood in white paint. It was exactly how I remembered it from the show.

Dean guided the car into town, pulling into a motel.

“Cas,” he called. “Can you grab us some clothes from a store? We gotta get cleaned up before we can go anywhere.”

I glanced around at the three of them. They were all covered in blood from the fight in the apartment, red sprays decorating their faces. Cas also had a bright red stain on the front of his coat from when he’d picked me up. I was simply covered in it.

Cas nodded and vanished. I hoped he moved as quickly as Dean apparently thought he did; with as much blood as was on him, the moment anyone saw him they’d call the cops.

“I’ll get us some rooms,” Sam said. He pulled off his jacket, which had taken the worst of the blood spray, and used it to wipe off his face. Then he pulled his shirt down over his jeans to hide the rest of the blood and started for the motel.

Dean and I sat impatiently in the car, waiting for them to return. Or for someone to walk by and freak out from the blood we were covered in. 

I glanced over at Dean. He was fiddling with the car’s music, rifling through his cassette tapes as he tried to find the one he wanted. He glanced over just then, and our eyes met.

“You gave us one hell of a scare, you know that right?” he told me.

I smiled sheepishly. “What exactly happened? How’d you find me?”

Dean’s eyebrows creased. “You don’t know what happened?” he asked. “Generally people are still aware of what’s going on around them when they’re possessed, they just can’t do anything.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I wasn’t paying attention. I was trying to keep the demon out of my thoughts.”

“Why?”

I slanted him a glare.

“You’re kidding, right? Do the demons even know you guys have a bunker? Cos I didn’t want to be the one to tell them that you do.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully, purposely keeping his face blank. “Well,” he said, “Cas went to your motel room to check on you and found the place a mess. The manager was dead. He came and got us, but by then you were long gone.” He paused, thinking back, and I grimaced. Luckily Dean didn’t ask what had happened to the manager.

“We had no idea where you were,” Dean continued. “We went crazy with the case, going to all the crime scenes, hunting down demons. We couldn’t find any. Eventually Sam realized that if you played connect the dot with where the killings had happened on a map you got a circle, and we went to the center. That’s where you were.”

I nodded. Had they really gone crazy looking for me? I could picture the scene, Sam parked at the tiny table in their motel room, books and maps spread out as he checked facts on his computer. Cas would be leaning against the wall, his face creased as he tried to decipher things in his head. Or maybe he would be staring at the info they’d collected, trying to piece together an answer. Dean would be pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath as he combed through every detail of every case. I was surprised he’d never worked himself into a panic attack.

“How long did it take to find me?” I asked.

“A bit over half a day,” Dean informed me. “You really don’t remember?”

I rolled my eyes. “I told you, my focus was on keeping the demon out of my thoughts, not tapping into its.” I shuddered, recalling the flash of a knife in my hand. I remembered some things.

We glanced over as Sam left the motel, jogging across the parking lot. At about the same time Cas reappeared, a pile of clothes in his arms. We hurried inside our motel rooms. As usual, Sam and Dean went into one room, Cas and I into the other.

“Here.” Cas handed me my clothes.

“Thanks.” I grabbed them and started for the bathroom, but Cas caught my arm, turning me back toward him.

“Are you ok?” he asked. His blue eyes searched my face intently.

I thought. I still didn’t know what was going on in my head. And I didn’t want to figure it out then, in front of him. I gave him a soft smile. 

“Yeah,” I said. I retreated to the shower, leaving Cas staring after me worriedly.

Once inside the bathroom I looked at myself in the mirror. I had more than a little trepidation as I did so, half expecting the eyes staring back at me to be black. But they were my own deep brown.

I was covered in blood. There was a spray of it across my face and neck, overshadowed by the pool that was drying on my shirt and jeans from where I’d stabbed myself. A smaller pool had collected on my left shoulder, the wound there must have opened up at some point. I lifted my hand to my hair, feeling where the dark, curly locks were matted with blood. How had I even survived long enough to get to this universe?

I shook my head, chasing the thoughts out of my mind. I quickly pulled off my clothes, stepping into the shower. Immediately the water turned red, red rivulets running down me and coating the tub floor. I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see it, focusing on squeezing as much shampoo into my hair as I could.

But with my eyes closed, images started to flash through my mind. The woman in the apartment came first, covered in blood, the knife in my hand carving out her throat. I shuddered as I recalled the slice of her flesh, reminding myself fervently that I hadn’t been the one wielding the blade. The demon had been.

Then came the motel manager. I could remember perfectly the way the pocket knife had felt as it had sunk into his chest, remembered how seconds later a red stain had started to spread out from the blade. I could see him a minute later, after the demon had possessed me, crumpled on the floor, lifeless. 

_But he was possessed,_ I told myself. _It was self-defense._

I knew I was lying to myself. I had known the little knife would be no good against the demon attacking me. I’d known, even if it was just in the back of my mind at the time, what I was doing. I had killed the manager. That was on me, not the demon.

Suddenly my knees couldn’t hold me up any more. I fell forward, onto the red stained tub floor, shaking. My breath was coming in ragged heaves, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I had killed a man. I leaned against the wall, hugging my arms around myself. I had killed him. I had stabbed him, and he was dead, and it was my fault. In that universe, my universe, there was now a family mourning for the life that _I_ had taken.

“Lucy?” I jumped as Cas knocked at the bathroom door. “Are you alright?”

I scrambled to my feet, pushing my hair out of my face. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I called. My voice sounded strangled. I hurried to finish up, my hands shaking.

Cas was waiting just outside the door, a concerned look on his face. I slipped past him into the motel room. 

“Go ahead,” I said. “I warn you, it’s messy in there.” I shot him a shaky smile and turned away quickly. I didn’t want him to see how badly I was still shaking. 

Sam and Dean were waiting for us in their room, freshly showered. As Cas and I slipped in they smiled almost sheepishly, looking like we’d interrupted a conversation. I wondered what they’d been talking about while we were in the other room.

“Let’s go get some grub,” Dean said. 

With an eager nod of agreement Sam grabbed his new jacket, and we made our way out to the car. I started to climb in, stopping when I noticed that Cas was still standing on the sidewalk outside the motel room.

“I should go,” he said. “I need to check in with my brothers and sisters.” His eyes flickered over to me uncertainly, and I offered him a smile.

“Pop back in later,” I told him. 

Cas nodded. He looked like he wanted to hug me goodbye.

“Careful,” Sam warned. “I still don’t trust them.” 

Dean looked like he wanted to elaborate on their feelings, but thought better of it.

“I know,” came Cas’s response. “I’ll find you tonight.” He vanished.

I moved my eyes back and forth between Sam and Dean. “What was that about?” I asked.

Sam slid into the passenger seat of the car. “We don’t exactly get along with the other angels,” he told me.

“Yeah, I know,” I reminded him. “But I’m guessing there’s a bit more to it.”

Dean shrugged. “We’re just not sure if we trust them.”

I frowned. “You never did say who’s in control now.” I paused, waiting for them to do so. “Care to fill me in?”

Dean pulled out of the parking space, guiding the impala to the diner down the road.

“No one’s officially in charge anymore,” Sam told me. “At least as far as we know. Cas seems to have gotten them all to start making their own decisions.”

“So if anyone’s in charge,” stated Dean, “it’s Cas.”

“So why don’t you trust them?” I asked.

“Because we’ve only ever met three angels with free will who didn’t try to- well, ok, scratch that, but basically we’ve only ever liked three angels, and two of them are dead.” Sam looked like he was remembering a very long Tuesday. Probably because he was.

We had reached the diner. I climbed out, following the boys in. I refrained from saying anything else until we’d been seated at a back table.

“So what? You think they’ll start doing a bunch of stupid stuff?” I asked. “A bunch of stupid evil stuff?”

Dean’s mouth quirked at my choice of words. “We’re not putting it beneath them,” he stated. 

“Hello.” We paused our conversation as a waitress came over. “My name’s Hannah, I’ll be your server. Can I get you something to drink?” 

I couldn’t help but notice that her eyes stayed glued to Sam and Dean. I might as well have been invisible.

We ended up getting water, followed by three large plates of eggs with sides of toast. As an unspoken rule, whenever the waitress appeared we paused our conversation.

“So,” I asked, swallowing a bite of eggs, “where do we go from here?”

Dean sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. He and Sam traded looks.

I grimaced. They needed to have a private discussion. I tossed my napkin on the table and rose, muttering something about having to go to the bathroom.

I stood in the entranceway to the bathroom, watching them talk quietly. If they knew I was there they ignored me, working out what they thought was best. 

I was having the same debate in my head. Logic told me that I couldn’t stay with them. Why would I? I was just some kid, I wasn’t a prophet or anything important. They’d probably drop me off with Jody Mills, or some other trusted friend. I wondered if they had any others.

Still, I didn’t want to leave them. I was only here because of them. They weren’t getting rid of me that easy. And there was a small part of me that wanted to hunt with them, wanted Dean to fulfill his promise of letting me do what I wanted. I was stuck here, I might as well live the legend, join the hunt. And besides, I told myself, they needed a positive female influence in their lives. They needed to watch a few more chick flicks.

After five minutes or so they seemed to have reached a conclusion. I made my way back over, sliding back into my seat. The three of us stared uncomfortably at each other.

“So,” I was the first to break the silence. “What’s the verdict?”

Dean’s eyebrows rose. “What’re you thinking?” he asked. “Out of curiosity,” he added.

I smiled. “I’m thinking that you’re not getting rid of me.” I left it at that, though I was ready to argue my case. I wanted to see what their response was.

They nodded thoughtfully. “That’s sort of what we were thinking too,” Sam admitted.

I tried not to show the relief that washed over me. Yeah, I had been ready to argue, but when it came down to it, that didn’t mean a thing. They just had to lock me out of the impala and drive off.

The intensity of my relief surprised me. Surely I hadn’t expected them to ditch me that easily? I kept my face blank as I considered. I honestly didn’t know.

I glanced at Sam and Dean. Both were watching me uncomfortably, uncertain as to what they should say. I gave them a tentative smile.

Should I be saying thank you? I felt like that would be admitting that they didn’t really need to keep me with them, and I didn’t want that to happen. There was still time for them to make a run for it. 

But something in me told me that wasn’t going to happen. Sam and Dean had made their decision. And they had chosen to keep me with them. I remembered how I had always thought that they seemed to adopt half the people they met into their little family. Cas, Charlie, Garth, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Jodi. Adam, if he hadn’t ended up in hell, would have become the youngest brother they both doted on. 

Now I was the latest adoptee. 

I gulped, overcome with emotion. When I had first realized that I was trapped here, in this universe, I had thought it was by myself. My family was still in New York, in a different universe; I would never see them again. But it seemed that I had another family, waiting with open arms. Yeah, maybe they weren’t the people who’d raised me, but in a way I’d known them for years. And maybe they were messed up, but it was all for the right reasons. And they were my messed up family.

“So,” I rephrased my question from earlier. “What now?”


	10. Moving In

I glanced over as Cas arrived. The angel was in his usual suit and trench coat, though this time with a more stressed expression on his face.

“Hey man.” Sam glanced up from his computer. “Rough day?”

Cas nodded. “My siblings were- distressed by my absence,” he stated.

Dean chuckled as he grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“They didn’t cause any trouble, did they?” I asked. I glanced around at Sam and Dean. “Sorry. Was that too blunt?”

Dean shrugged. “Nope. I was thinking the same.” 

Sam nodded, giving Cas a _sorry man_ look.

“Not that I know of.” Cas sat at the table, leaning back in his chair. “I’m still getting caught up on what I’ve missed.”

“How long have you been gone?” I asked. “What day is it here?”

“December eleventh,” Sam stated. “We’ve been gone a couple of weeks.”

I nodded. December eleventh. It was nearly Christmas time.

“So,” Cas glanced back and forth between us. “What are you doing?”

“Just hanging.” Dean took a swig of his bear. “We’re gonna take a couple of days before we get back to work. We gotta get Lucy settled in.”

I smiled as Cas glanced over at me. 

“What are you going to do?” Cas asked me.

“I’m gonna hunt with Sam and Dean,” I told him. 

Cas nodded. “Do you know how?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I picked up a few things from the show,” I said. “And they can teach me the rest.”

Cas caught my eyes with his own. “Be careful,” he warned. “It’s a dangerous job.”

“I know.” I offered him a smile. “And I will be.”

Cas sat back again, pleased.

“Are you staying for the night?” asked Dean.

“No.” Cas stood, pushing his chair in. “I have to get back to heaven. But I said I would check in.”

Sam nodded. “We’re probably gonna head for the bunker tomorrow, so if you need us, look there.” 

Cas nodded and disappeared.

I glanced at my watch. **10:40.**

“I’m gonna head to bed,” I said. “See you in the morning.”

“See you.” 

I slipped out of the room and into the one next door, locking the door behind me. I had left Sam and Dean with the second key to my room, keeping only one key for myself. I set it on the nightstand. 

I made my way to the bathroom, brushing my teeth quickly. During the day we’d run out to a local store, buying some changes of clothes and other basic necessities. I had also insisted on eyeliner and mascara. I’d missed makeup.

I was more tired than I’d expected. I wondered if it was wormhole lag or something. Either way, no more than fifteen minutes later I was asleep.

_Again, the old woman flashed across my vision. I would never be rid of the scene, with all that blood spurting up at me, watching the light fade from her eyes. I was glad that I hadn’t seen that with the manager._

_Not that I wasn’t seeing things from the motel. Soon the scene changed, and I was lying on the floor in the small room I had inhabited, watching my pocket knife sink into the manager’s chest. Blood spread from the silver of the blade._

_“Lucy?”_

_My eyes yanked up at the voice. It wasn’t the manager’s heavy Italian accent but a lighter, younger voice. I would know it anywhere._

_“Peter?”_

_I watched in horror as my little brother looked down at the knife protruding from his chest. The blood was spreading still, the stain on his shirt growing, dripping down onto me. Now it was coming out of his mouth, a small stream dribbling from the corner of his lips. His brown eyes were wide in terror and agony as he choked out my name one last time. Then he collapsed on me, dead._

“Lucy! Lucy!” 

I woke with Dean shaking my shoulder roughly, yelling my name in my ear. I scrambled backwards, pulling the sheets up and over me.

“Are you ok?” Sam was there, hanging back, though his face was twisted with concern. Him and Dean. They were both stripped down to their underwear, and Sam had a nasty bed head.

“Yeah.” I glanced around, panting. “What happened?”

Dean backed up, sitting on the bed closer to the door. “You were screaming,” he said. “Woke us up. Probably the whole motel.”

I winced. “Sorry.” I glanced up a moment later, worried. “What was I screaming?”

Sam shrugged. “We couldn’t make out most of it. Just the name Peter.”

I sighed in relief. I didn’t know if they knew what had happened in the motel room. So far they hadn’t asked, and I hoped it stayed that way. I didn’t know how to tell them that I’d killed the manager.

“Who’s Peter?” asked Dean. 

I sighed. “My brother.” I lowered my gaze, running my hand through my hair. When I glanced up again Sam and Dean looked uncomfortable.

“You can go,” I told them. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Dean smiled reassuringly. “It’s not a problem,” he said. He stood to go.

“You sure you’re ok?” asked Sam. He hung back a bit, waiting for my answer. 

I nodded. “Yeah, go, I’m fine. Night.”

“Night.” With a frown, Sam shut the door behind him.

* * * * 

“Say cheese.” 

I tried not to let my smile be the type that looked like I was thinking about hitting Dean upside the head with the camera pointed at me. Which was hard, because that was exactly what I was thinking. The camera flashed, and I stepped over to see the results.

“I look like I’m plotting someone’s murder,” I whined. Sam chuckled as he peered over my shoulder.

“Let’s try again.” Vince took his camera back and gestured for me to return to my position in front of the wall.

Vince was tall and lanky, with brown skin and black hair. The tips of his hair he’d dyed red. This, he’d explained when we’d entered, was for an upcoming football game. 

Sam and Dean went to him whenever they needed a new ID. Whether it was because they had used their current IDs too often or because they needed to impersonate a different type of official didn’t matter. Vince was their guy.

I was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, just like Sam and Dean. They had insisted that they get me a driver’s license, just in case I ever ran into any cops. I’d decided not to remind them that I was still seventeen. Hopefully it would say eighteen on the ID.

“Alright.” Vince positioned the camera, peering at me through the lenses. “Shift to your left just a touch. Good. Now-”

“Say cheese.” 

I aimed a glare at Dean. If he said that one more time…

I laughed when a moment later Sam held his hand over Dean’s head, giving him bunny ears. He flexed his fingers, making the ears go up and down, and I chortled. The camera flashed.

“Beautiful.” Vince was appraising the photo, holding it out for Sam and Dean to see. “What did you do?” he asked them.

The two brothers shrugged, one in confusion, the other trying to impersonate innocence. I giggled as I went to look at my photo.

“That’s still not good,” I stated. 

Dean rolled his eyes.

“You’ll never be happy with it,” he said. “It’s fine. It’s great. Let’s use it.” He handed the camera back to Vince, who brought it over to his computer.

An hour later the ID was ready. Vince handed it to me with one last inspection of his handy work.

“Thanks.” I examined it, noting with glee that it had 1996 as my birth year. That made me eighteen. 

“Thanks man.” Sam pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and handed it to Vince.

“Thank you.” Vince stuck the wad into his own pocket. “See you next time,” he called.

We each gave him a wave as we exited the shop. Vince had his operation under disguise as a sports shop, but anyone who knew what package to ask for was brought into the back room for a fake ID. 

The impala was waiting outside, and we climbed in. Dean pulled into the streets.

“Do you even know how to drive?” he asked.

“More or less,” I said. “My dad gave me a few lessons. I never really had much time.”

“Really?” Sam glanced back. “What were you doing all day?”

“Homework.” 

Dean snickered. “You see, I never had that problem,” he stated.

“That’s because you spent high school making out with the cheerleaders under the bleachers,” commented Sam. 

Dean shrugged nonchalantly.

“So now what?” I asked.

“Now, we head to the bunker,” Dean said. 

I nodded.

Sam glanced back at me again. “Did you get any sleep last night?” he asked. I could tell he was eyeing the shadows under my eyes.

“A bit,” I lied. 

Sam pressed his lips together, but let the subject drop.

We spent the rest of the day in the car, making our way to the bunker. Dean took extra caution as he drove, not wanting to take any chances that we were being followed. It was getting dark by the time Dean drove to the base of one of many hills out in the middle of nowhere. There, nearly hidden, was a large door. Sam got out to pull it up.

It was a garage door. Inside were a bunch of antique cars, many of which I recognized from the show. I even saw the motorbike that Dorothy had ridden. Dean pulled the impala into an empty space and climbed out.

“Home sweet home.” He stretched, and when he stood straight again I saw that he was already much more relaxed. When Sam returned from pulling down the door, I saw that he was too.

“Come on.” Sam headed to the door to the bunker, which was set into the wall a few feet away. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

The boys led me through the bunker, showing me the kitchen and the weight room, containing a bench press, punching bag, and salmon ladder. There were also several weapons lined up. I could imagine the boys coming down there to work off some steam, Sam taking to the punching bag, Dean grabbing a gun and aiming for the targets on the opposite wall. 

We left soon after, and they took me to the library, which contained all of the men of letters’ knowledge.

“I’ve been going through this place,” Sam told me. “Seeing what they’ve collected, adding some stuff of our own.”

I nodded, eyeing the ceiling high shelves that stretched up and down the large room. “That must be taking a while.”

Sam grunted. “You have no idea.”

“And here,” Dean shoved aside some shelves, “is our dungeon.” 

I stepped forward as the room was revealed. It was dark and cold, and I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust. In the center of the room was a devils trap painted in white paint, a single chair sitting at the center. There were also chains anchored into the floor.

I glanced back at Dean. “I feel like if I actually go in there you’ll lock me in.”

Dean chuckled. “Only for a few minutes.”

I laughed and quickly retreated from the dungeon. “Nice try.”

Sam led me to the bedrooms. There was an entire hallway at least. Probably more. 

“Pick a room.” Sam moved to one on the right, tapping the handle. “Not this one though. This one’s mine.”

“And this is mine.” Dean leaned against a door a few feet further down the hall, this one on the left side. “But you can pick from any of the other rooms.”

I nodded, drifting slowly down the hall. Which one should I choose? I pushed open the second door on the right, peering in. The room was big, bigger than my room at home had been. There was a bed against the far wall, a nightstand next to it. To the left of the door was a dresser. Other than that the room was bare.

I turned to Sam and Dean. “This one works.” I doubted the other rooms were any different. I would be able to add to it over time, make it my own. The thought was both comforting and sad all at once.

“Come on.” Sam tossed his bag into his room and closed the door. “Let’s get something to eat.”

I nodded and set my bag on my new bed before following the brothers down the hall. Dean started rifling through the fridge as Sam and I sat at the table.

“What’ve we got?” Sam called over his shoulder. I faintly heard Dean gag, and a moment later something hit the trash can.

“We’ve got peanut butter, pretzels, and beer.” Dean made his way into the dining room with a four pack of beers in one hand, a jar of peanut butter in the other, and a bag of pretzels clenched in his teeth. He let the bag fall onto the table, setting down the beer and peanut butter a moment later. “Unless you want the moldy- whatever that was that I just threw out.”

“Great.” Sam eyed our selection. “Looks like I’m going shopping tomorrow.”

I chuckled and grabbed the pretzels, tearing the bag open. “Can you pass the peanut butter?”

With a quirk of his eyebrows, Dean slid the peanut butter across the table. I unscrewed the lid and shoved a pretzel stick inside, using it to scoop out some of the brown gooey yumminess.

“Is that even good?” Sam eyed my makeshift meal distastefully. 

“Yeah.” I turned the pretzel bag towards him. “Try it yourself.”

Dean reached over and snagged a pretzel, and a moment later Sam gave in and did the same.

“Mmm, not bad.” Dean licked peanut butter off his fingers.

“Yeah.” Sam reached over for another pretzel. 

“So, movie night?” Dean glanced back and forth between the two of us.

“Do you even have a TV?” I asked.

“Nope.” Dean grinned. “We have the internet. So, what movie?” He glanced at me. “Please not another chick flick.”

“You liked _The Notebook_ and you know it.”

Dean astutely ignored me, and Sam laughed.

“Don’t worry,” I chuckled. “I’m in more of a sci-fi mood. _Avengers_?”

Dean nodded. “I can go for that. Sammy?”

Sam nodded. “Sure. I’ll grab the computer.” He disappeared down the hallway. While he was gone I moved to the kitchen, filling a glass with tap water. Peanut butter and pretzels were good, but they made you thirsty.

We stayed in that night, crowding around the table with the computer. By the time the movie was over we’d polished off the pretzels, leaving us with peanut butter for breakfast the next morning.

We dispersed quickly once the movie finished. I ended up sitting on my bed, staring at the wall.

My room.

It almost felt like a betrayal. I had left behind my old life so quickly, so easily. I already had another family, another home. Was it too soon?

I grabbed my bag, slowly standing with it and moving to the dresser. I finished shoving the clothes into the drawers quickly and set the bag down in the corner. I was officially moved in. 

I wasn’t sure what to do next. I wasn’t tired. And I still didn’t have a book to read.

I curled up in bed, staring at the wall where the light threw shadows and resisting the urge to make shadow puppets. I didn’t want to go to sleep. I knew all too well what waited for me there, in the dark depths of my dreams. I didn’t want to face it. 

Finally I stood, slipping out of my room and into the hallway. I was pretty sure I could remember the way to the library. It ended up taking me nearly ten minutes, but eventually I made it. 

I moved along the shelves, wondering which book to read. I had no idea what was in any of them. What did the men of letters write about? Something told me there wouldn’t be any homemade apple pie recipes in there. 

I grabbed a random book off a shelf, bringing it over to a small table at the end of the row and turning on a lamp. I had to blow a thick layer of dust off the book before I could open it, doing my best not to inhale the small grey particles.

The book was by a woman called Jane Newberry. Apparently she had met an angel, something that had never happened to a man of letters before. I was simply impressed that she had become a man of letters. A photo of her was pinned to the inside cover, black and white. It must have been a hundred years old, back before women could even vote. She must have been one hell of a woman.

She looked like it. Brown hair was pulled back from her face, arched eyebrows throwing shadows over dark eyes. Her lips were painted; I imagined that if the photo were in color the lipstick would be a ruby red. She was narrowing a look at the camera that was half glare half grin. It seemed like she was almost daring the cameraman to mess with her. I decided I liked her.

I turned the page to see her handwriting, sprawling across the page in a neat cursive. She had met an angel named Anna while collecting information on djinns. Jane had nearly been killed on the job, but Anna had been nearby, and had rescued her.

I paused to think. Anna. Where did I know that name? 

Oh yeah. She was the angel that had torn out her grace, falling to earth to be reborn in a human body. After regaining her grace after meeting Sam and Dean, she had gone rogue and tried to kill them and then their parents to stop the apocalypse. 

Her presence on earth made sense. Even then, at the beginning of the twentieth century, she must have been thinking of her unhappiness in heaven, maybe even plotting her fall. Maybe she had snuck down from heaven often, wandering about, trying to act normal, human. I doubted she was the first.

I glanced down at the page. Jane had sketched a drawing of Anna. In the drawing the angel had possessed a woman with high cheek bones and a delicate look. Her hair was drawn lightly, so I assumed that the wavy locks cascading around her face were blonde.

I kept reading. Anna and Jane had struck a bond, and Jane had taken a very long leave of absence to spend some time with Anna. The two had traveled around the globe as a couple. As they had, Anna had divulged precious secrets about her kind to Jane, and Jane had written them down. Each and every one.

But I could tell in the introduction to the book that Jane hadn’t been using Anna for her information. Yeah, she had copied down everything her angel lover had told her, but that was probably more of a habit. Maybe a sense of duty to the men of letters had compelled her to collect those files. But it hadn’t been her purpose in traveling with the angel. Her love for Anna was clear in her writing, and not just in her words. The pen strokes were more even where Jane had spelled out Anna’s name, as though she had taken her time to form the letters just right. They were darker too, indicating she had spent minutes, maybe hours going back and tracing over Anna’s name, a smile coating her lips. It was a heartwarming thought, one that still held a twinge of sadness. Both of these women were dead. I felt like I was bearing witness to their legacy, their memories. 

I shook aside my feelings, flipping to the next page in the book. The introduction was over, and now the facts began. Here I paused. Should I read this? It wasn’t mine to know, mine to collect. I doubted Anna had even known Jane was writing the book. 

I shook myself. It didn’t matter if Anna had known. She’d turned out to be a psychopath in the end anyways. And besides, if I was going to be a hunter, I had to be comfortable with doing a lot more than reading up on heaven’s secrets. It was always better off to know something and not need it than to need to know something later and not have the information. I was pretty sure that was how Sam and Dean had gotten themselves into messes like the apocalypse. 

I continued to read.


	11. Changing Worlds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that it's taken so long to update. I've been swamped with homework. I'm not even done, but I know I've put you on hiatus for far too long.

“… 49, 50.” 

I collapsed on the mat in the weight room, panting. 50 pushups without a break. Off to the side Dean laughed.

“You’re weak,” he chortled. 

I tilted my head just enough to glare at him, then lowered my forehead back to the mat.

“Here.” Dean tossed a bottle of water to me; it hit the floor next to my head. “Drink up.”

I pushed myself into a sitting position, tearing the lid off the bottle and chugging. I glanced over at Dean, watching as he did pull ups on the salmon ladder. A minute later he started to climb, wrenching the metal bar out of the notches and shifting it to the notches on the next level. Then he repeated.

He paused at the top, grinning down at me. “Feel better?” he asked. 

I nodded. 

“Good.” Dean started back down the ladder. “Now do fifty more.”

I groaned, but did as he said.

Afterwards, Dean let me lay there for a few minutes, me lying on the floor and him leaning against the wall. Then he came over and sat on my feet.

“Now give me fifty sit ups,” he ordered.

“Seriously?” I glared at him as I scooted into position.

“Seriously.” Dean took a gulp from his own water bottle. “How are you supposed to hunt if you aren’t in shape? It’s not easy work. Before I let you do anything, I gotta know you can handle yourself.”

I winced as I completed my tenth sit up, then let myself sag on the floor for a minute. “Then shouldn’t you be teaching me how to fight?” I asked.

“I will.” Dean tapped my leg. “Sit ups, now. But that’s not gonna help you if you’re going against a wendigo. They’re not gonna use jiu-jitsu. You gotta have muscles.”

“How much muscle do you need to fight?” I asked. Twenty sit ups. I could do it. I paused for another rest.

Dean shrugged. “You really don’t. Fighting isn’t about strength, or speed. It’s really more thinking; knowing what you can do and using it to your advantage. But the more muscle you have, the more you can do.”

Thirty sit ups. “When are you gonna teach me how to fight?”

Dean’s mouth quirked in a smile. “Once you’ve finished the sit ups. Keep going.”

I finished the fifty sit ups a couple of minutes later, and after a water break Dean had me do fifty more.

Afterwards I sat against the wall. I was covered in sweat, my back and arms hot and sticky. I was wearing a sports bra and tight fitting shorts, so I could feel the wall behind my back. My feet were bare.

“Ok.” Dean moved to the center of the room, gesturing for me to join him. I stood and made my way over, setting my water down on the bench press.

“Jiu-jitsu time,” he said. He stood facing me, his left right leg slightly closer than his left. “Imitate this position,” he ordered.

I did as he said. “What ne-” I yelped as Dean grabbed me and threw me. I landed on my side and rolled, scrambling to my feet.

“Good.” Dean shifted to face me again. “You got up fast. You want to do that. The longer you’re down, the longer they’ve got to finish you off.”

“How do you do that?” I asked. Dean grinned and resumed the position from a few moments ago.

“I want you to come at me like you’re gonna head butt me,” he said. “But don’t send your head into my stomach. Put it right here.” He tapped his right hip area.

I did as he said, waiting for further instructions. 

“Now, wrap your arms around my leg,” Dean said. “Around my thigh. Step in, you want your legs past mine.”

I did as he asked. I ended up almost hugging his leg, my head embedded in his hip. My feet were practically under his body.

“Now step out with your left leg,” Dean said. “As you do, I want you to throw my leg. Do it hard and fast.”

I did, and to my surprise Dean went tumbling down. A moment later he was up again, grinning in pride.

“Good,” he said. “That was good.”

“You ok?” I asked. 

Dean glared.

“In a fight you cannot stop and ask if whatever you’re fighting is ok,” he stated. “The point is to get them to not be ok.”

I scowled. “Well this isn’t a fight,” I said. “And I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“You couldn’t if you tried,” Dean commented.

“Oh really?” I rushed Dean, trying to pull the same move on him as I had just done. He sidestepped, sweeping his leg up and over my head. I whirled to see him standing to the side, grinning. I charged again, and this time Dean didn’t move. But he wasn’t in the right position for me to pull the move that he’d taught me, and I knew that if I wasted time trying to coax him into it he’d have me on the ground in seconds. I settled for punching him in the stomach.

Dean grunted and doubled over, and I took the opportunity to slip to his side. When he turned to face me he was in the right position, and I charged, going to throw him. Again he merely stepped over my head.

“Not fair.” I pushed myself up; I had fallen on the mat, and turned to face him. Dean snickered.

“Wait here one sec.” He disappeared into a side room, returning a minute later with a pair of boxing gloves and boxing mitts. He tossed me the gloves.

“Pull em on,” he said. 

I did as he said. They were a bit big, but I could deal. Dean slid the mitts onto his hands and held them up.

“Hit me,” he ordered.

I grinned and struck out, my right fist connecting with his right mitt. Dean smiled as I followed with a punch with my left hand.

“Not bad,” he said. “You get some muscle on you and you’ll have a mean hook.”

I grinned. A moment later Sam poked his head through the door.

“Hey,” he called. “I got some food. Can you give me a hand?”

We followed Sam out to the car, unloading the bags of groceries that he’d shoved in the back. As soon as we finished the three of us all went to the training room.

I watched Sam and Dean spar for the next fifteen minutes. Sam, although the larger of the two, still ended up on his back each round. I tried to analyze some of the moves they were pulling, hoping to use them later, but they were moving far too fast for me to catch anything.

We trained for the rest of the afternoon, Sam and Dean working together to teach me how to fight. By the time we wrapped up I was exhausted, sweaty, and more than a little sore. I hit the shower.

* * * * *

“Hey Cas.” Sam looked up with a smile, and I turned in my chair. Cas was standing just behind me.

“Hello.” The angel pulled out a chair next to me and settled into it. “I came to see how you were settling in.” He turned to me.

I smiled. “Fine, good.” I studied his expression. The skin in between his eyebrows was creased, his mouth turning downward ever so slightly in a frown. “Trouble in heaven?” I guessed.

Cas sighed. “One of my brothers was found dead,” he told us. “We don’t know what killed him.”

“How’d he die?” Dean entered, balancing three plates of grilled cheeses in his hands. He set them down on the table and pulled out a chair.

“His throat was slit,” Cas said. “It looks like the killer used one of these.” He tossed his three edged blade onto the table.

I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. “What are these made of?” I asked.

Cas pulled the knife gently from my hands, sliding it back up his sleeve. “A special steel found only in heaven,” he said. 

I nodded.

“Do you think it’s another angel?” asked Sam.

Cas’s frown deepened. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I’m concerned for my siblings. And if it is another angel, even heaven isn’t safe.”

I put my hand on his arm. “Hey, it’s alright. We’ll figure out who did it.” 

Cas turned to face me, and I smiled reassuringly. A moment later he returned the smile.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” asked Dean. He was watching Cas worriedly.

The angel shook his head. “No,” he answered.

Dean nodded. “Let us know,” he offered.

Cas nodded, standing. “I have to go,” he said. “I just needed a few minutes away. Let me know if you three need anything.” He didn’t wait for a response, vanishing into thin air. 

* * * * *

I curled up in my room after dinner with the book I’d taken from the library. I had spent the whole night reading it, and was about halfway through. I couldn’t help but think that my choice in reading material was a bit ironic, given the news Cas had come bearing that night. I hoped that I might find something useful in the book, but without more information on the killing, I wouldn’t know if I found something. But I had by now gone forty eight hours without sleep, something that was starting to catch up to me. I fell asleep with the book in my hand.

_I was standing in the street, just in front of the driveway. The house was the same as I remembered it, white walls and red shutters. The driveway was cracked from time, the cracks more intense by the patio steps, where the three children who’d grown up there had jumped from the door to the drive._

_I smiled softly, inspecting the house. It was so calm, so peaceful. But I knew how crazy it was inside. Three kids could really wrack up a storm. But it was the best storm ever made._

_I started up the driveway, up the steps and to the front door. I stuck my hand in my pocket, fumbling for my keys, then stuck the right one in the door. With a twist, it opened._

_The interior was cool, air conditioned. There were stairs in front of me, two sets. One led downstairs to the garage, the other upstairs to the main part of the house._

_I started up the stairs, gazing around me as I did. To my left was the dining room, a polished wood table gleaming softly under the lights. Past that would be the kitchen and living room. At the top of the stairs a hallway lead to the right. Through there were the bedrooms._

_“Mom?” I called. “Dad?” I reached the top of the stairs, looking around me at the photos. Pictures of me, my brother, and my sister decorated the walls, as well as a few family photos. I drank it in. Never had I loved those photos so much. I had no idea why._

_“Is anyone home?” I tried again. “Peter? Jackie?” My voice was met only with silence._

_Where was everybody? It was noon on a Saturday afternoon, it wasn’t like anyone had to be anywhere._

_Suddenly an image flashed through my mind, of Peter with a knife embedded in his chest, blood dripping from his mouth and onto me. My knees felt weak, and I clutched at the banister. Where had that image come from? Panic engulfed me as the picture flashed through my head again. Where was my family? I ran down the hall._

_I didn’t have far to go. There was a small closet on the right side; directly after it was the room Jackie and Peter shared. I had often wondered out loud what my parents would do when the two of them became too old to be sharing the same room. They’d said that since by then I’d be off at college, Jackie could have my room._

_I shoved the door open, peering inside. I was afraid of what I might see. As it turned out, that something was a fort._

_It was made of mattresses, pillows, and blankets, all stacked together in a great big canopy. The window was open, and a soft breeze was blowing their makeshift roof. The roof in question was purple with white flowers on it._

_“Hello?” I smiled in relief as I heard giggling from under the fort. They were alright. They were fine. The little brats._

_I went onto my knees, ducking my head into the entrance and crawling inside. “I’m coming in,” I called. More giggles met me._

_There was a sheet hanging in my way, but I could see movement on the other side. Under the sheet I could vaguely make out a small brown hand scrambling back. I laughed as I pushed the sheet out of my way, lunging forward and snagging the owner of the hand in my arms._

_“Gotcha!” I twisted to my right as a flash of movement caught my eye, and a moment later I held two squirming children. I laughed as they struggled, then gave up with a final squeal._

_I sat up, throwing the sheets off of our heads. Forts were fun when you were little, but when you got big they were just suffocating. I glanced down at Jackie and Peter, laughter bubbling up in my throat. But when I saw them all I could do was scream. Their eyes were black._

_I scrambled backwards, eyes wide. Everything was coming back to me now, the wormhole, the demons, everything. I clenched my head in my hands._

_“What’s wrong?” Jackie’s face pouted, her lips going into a guppy imitation. But I knew it wasn’t her. Peter was watching me curiously, his brown eyes wide._

_“Won’t you play with us?” he asked. They shifted as though to crawl forward, and I ran._

_I scrambled to my feet, bolting for the door. My eyes were downcast as I went, busy trying to make sure I didn’t get tangled in sheets and blankets, so I crashed headfirst into my dad. I stumbled back as he and my mother stepped into the room._

_“What’s wrong?” he asked. I put my back to them, trying to press them out of the room as I watched Jackie and Peter- no, the demons inside Jackie and Peter stand._

_“We have to run,” I told my parents. “Run now. They’re demons.”_

_“Lucy,” my mother said. “Don’t say that. There’s nothing wrong with them.”_

_I turned to yell at them, to scream for them to run. But when I looked up at their faces everything I’d planned on saying fled from my mind. Two pairs of black eyes stared down at me._

_“Nonononono.” I backed away, towards the window, tripping over a comforter as I did. My parents and the kids formed a line as they moved closer to me, black eyes staring at me._

_“There’s nothing wrong with us,” the demon in Jackie echoed. “Come and play.”_

_I shook my head, moving further away. Now my back was pressed against the wall next to the window._

_My mother, or what used to be my mother, smiled at me. “It’s ok,” she said. “Soon you’ll be just like us. Then you can play all you want.” Together they took a step towards me. I considered jumping out the window._

_A moment later black smoke exploded into the room, from the very window I was about to hurl myself at. It filled the room, blocking out my view of my family, blocking out everything but the blackness._

_Then it came for me. Black smoke filled my mouth, my nose, rushing into my body. I choked on it, falling to my knees, but there was nothing I could do. It filled my mind, clearing the room as it entered my body. As the smoke dissipated, working its way into me, my family once again became visible. The demon possessing my mother smiled as it moved to stand in front of me._

_“It’s ok,” it said. “Now we can all be together.”_

I reared upright in bed, a scream caught in my throat. I sat there for a minute, coughing and panting. What was that? I leaned against the headboard as I fought to catch my breath, my back sticky with sweat. Suddenly the only thing I knew was that I needed to see my family. I reached out, grabbing my phone off my nightstand and hitting number three on speed dial.

“Hello?” came the response at the other end. “Lucy?”

“Cas.” I paused, still out of breath. “Are you busy?” 

* * * *

“Thanks again,” I said. Beside me Cas nodded silently.

We were had just arrived at my house, and were standing across the street. In the yard we were on was a cherry blossom tree, and I made my way over to it, heaving myself onto the lower branches. Cas appeared in the branch above me, and reached down to pull me up.

“You know this isn’t your real house, right?” he asked a minute later. We were situated on a thick branch halfway up the tree, hidden by the green leaves.

“I know.” I craned my neck to see around a branch hanging in my face. “I just need to know that they’re alright. I can’t explain it.”

I could feel Cas turn his head to watch me, worry coating his face. I ignored him, keeping my gaze fixed on the house across the street. It was exactly like my house had been in my universe, white siding and red shutters. The white paint on the front porch was peeling.

I glanced at my watch. It was 7:30 at night. I doubted I would see anyone, but hope and more than a little fear kept me pinned to that tree branch.

The front door opened, and a shape moved out. Average height with long, curly black hair, the girl jogged down the front steps with a bag of garbage in her hand.

“Who’s that?” I whispered. 

Cas glanced over.

“That’s you,” he whispered back. “You don’t know what you look like?”

I shrugged. “I do; it’s just different seeing myself in person. I remember reading this theory that humans perceive themselves in certain ways, so if one day some guy met himself on the streets, he wouldn’t recognize the person he was looking at as him.”

Cas nodded. “It’s an interesting theory,” he stated. 

I nodded. By now the parallel version of me had shut the front door behind her, cutting off my view of the interior of the house. I sighed.

“Do you want to go inside?” Cas asked. I glanced over at him in alarm.

“We can’t,” I said. “They’d see us.” That would be hard to explain. Two Lucys and a guy in a trench coat. I tried to imagine how that conversation would go, and then gave up. It just couldn’t happen.

Cas shook his head. “I can make us invisible,” he said.

“Seriously?” I remembered he could turn himself invisible, but I hadn’t realized he could make someone else besides him vanish.

Cas nodded. “Seriously.” He appeared on the ground, leaving me to clamber down after him. As I started to lower myself from the last branch he caught me around the waist, setting me down gently next to him. He took my hand.

A moment later we were in my house. There was a great bay window behind the kitchen table; we stood in front of it. In the living room I could hear the TV going, and we moved forward slowly, trying not to make any noise. Even one creak of a floorboard would give us away.

Somehow we managed to cross the room, and stood in the kitchen, peering into the living room. My parents sat on the couch against the right wall, Jackie and Peter sitting in between them. The parallel version of me was just reaching the couch, and she slid in between her two younger siblings, putting her arms around each. 

I felt tears come to my eyes as I watched them. They were so happy, so carefree. They had no idea we were even here. They were simply enjoying each other’s company. They had no idea how precious that company was.

I knew then that I didn’t belong there. This wasn’t my family, wasn’t my home. My family was in a different universe, still wondering, hoping that I would come home. They would never know what happened to me. Maybe that was a good thing.

But I was intruding here. These people, with their school and their TV shows, they didn’t belong in my world. They didn’t deserve to look into the darkness, into the black eyes of a demon. Just like I no longer belonged in this world. I couldn’t sit and watch shows anymore, pretending that everything was hunky dory. I knew better. Hopefully they never would.

I turned to see Cas watching me. As I looked at him he smiled comfortingly, and I realized that I was crying silently, tears leaking down my face. I nodded that I was ready to go, taking one last look at the life I’d left behind.

We were back in the bunker. Cas and I landed in my room, just in front of my bed, and I sank down gratefully. The room had never seemed so bare, with its simple sheets and bare walls. There weren’t any clothes overflowing from the dresser, no homework stacked in the corner. I didn’t know what I would make it into overtime, but it would never be the same as what I had had. 

“Are you ok?” Cas sat next to me, peering at me worriedly.

“Yeah.” I nodded, sniffling back fresh tears. “I just, I don’t know.” I couldn’t find the right words to express how I felt.

“It hurt,” Cas guessed. “Seeing the life you could have had.”

I glanced up at him. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Exactly.” 

Cas pulled me to him in a hug. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “I know you can’t go back, and I know this isn’t a replacement for your family, but-”

“Stop.” I pulled away and looked the angel in the eyes, a deep, piercing blue. “Stop it now. Yeah, you three didn’t raise me, but you were there for me when I needed you. You’ve saved my life how many times already? And when I got stuck here in this universe with you, you all just let me move in, let me take up room in your lives. You’re a pretty damn good family if you ask me.”

Cas smiled, but there was something behind his eyes that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He pulled me into another hug, kissing the top of my head.

“Thank you,” he said. He stood, taking a step away from the bed. “You should rest,” he told me. “You need it.”

I nodded and crawled under the covers. “Night,” I mumbled.

“Goodnight.” Cas vanished, and I turned off the lamp next to my bed. Within minutes I was asleep. This time, I didn’t dream.


	12. A Guide to Christmas: Presents, Decorations, and Demon Killing

“Lucy, time to get up.” Sam poked his head through the door and I groaned, glancing at the clock.

“It’s 7:00,” I whined.

“So?” Sam stepped further into the room. “We gotta get to the store before the lines-” He ducked as I threw my pillow at him, and it slammed against the wall behind him. He quickly shut the door, safely on the other side.

“Sam,” I called. “Sam?”

Sam opened the door again, letting just his head peek into the room. He was probably afraid I was going to throw something else at him. 

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Can you bring me back my pillow?”

* * * * 

Three hours later I clomped into the dining room, yawning. Dean glanced up from his coffee, leaning against the counter as he waited for the microwave timer to hit zero.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” he called. 

I shot a half willed glare over my shoulder and poured myself a steaming cup of caffeine. 

“Where’s Sam?” I asked.

“In the library. He said since he had to wait for you to get up he might as well get back to organizing things in there.”

I nodded and grabbed a bagel from the counter. “You sure you don’t want to come with us?” I asked. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Positive. You kids have fun. Don’t know why you want to do all this anyways.”

I leaned against the counter. “It’s Christmas!” I exclaimed. “How do you not celebrate that?”

“Jewish people don’t,” Dean stated.

“You’re not Jewish.” I took a gulp of coffee, wincing as it scalded my throat. I had better let it sit for a few minutes. “It’s one of the few times of the year when people are supposed to be nice for once. I’d have thought you’d love that.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, generally my Christmases involve hunting the things that don’t abide by that rule.”

I sighed and left the room, padding down the hall towards the library. Sam was sitting at a table, a stack of books and his computer in front of him. He glanced up as I came in.

“Hey.” He flipped the laptop shut and stood. “Careful with that.” He gestured to my coffee.

“I know. You ready?”

Sam nodded, following me out of the library. “You know, all the stores are gonna be crazy by now,” he warned me.

“Don’t you go backing out on me.” I sent him a warning glare over my shoulder as I walked, then turned my attention back to not spilling my coffee. Sam sighed and kept walking.

I had asked them the previous week where the Christmas decorations were. They had been home nearly a week and they hadn’t put anything up. Not a single snowman or stocking. I’d decided someone needed to. But then they’d said that there weren’t any decorations. Apparently they weren’t too big on celebrating Christmas, which I thought was ridiculous, since they had a great big bunker to decorate. It wasn’t like they were spending the New Year in a motel room.

So I’d spent the last week convincing them to buy some decorations. We didn’t have to get much, I’d argued, just something. We deserved twenty four hours of being normal. 

Finally the two brothers had agreed, albeit reluctantly. So, the day before Christmas I was herding Sam to the nearest store for some tinsel and a fake tree.

He’d been right about the crowd. I couldn’t move a foot in either direction without bumping into someone. They were everywhere. People buying wrapping paper or other last minute decorations, maybe ingredients for their favorite recipes. There were more than a few spouses who’d forgotten to get their significant other a present. 

I grabbed a wagon, guiding it towards the entrance. Behind me Sam did the same. 

“Let’s split up,” I told him. “I’ll get the food, you get the decorations.”

“Do you know how to make anything?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” I shot a grin over my shoulder. “I just follow the directions on the box.” I sped off down an aisle.

It didn’t take too long to get the food. I kept it simple, knowing the oven in the bunker was small. I had no idea what I was gonna do when Thanksgiving rolled around; I didn’t see a turkey fitting in there. I bought a bunch of chocolate Santas and stocked up on chips. I might as well get ready for New Year’s Eve.

Then I had two more stops to make. Towards the back of the store they sold ornaments, large glass orbs packaged individually. I bought four, as well as glitter glue. Then I made my way to the clothes department. I had to get the boys presents.

I decided on scarves. Hats came off too easily, and gloves would get covered in blood and dirt within minutes. Plus, I could imagine Dean using his scarf to strangle something. 

I grabbed a sapphire blue scarf from the rack. It was perfect for Cas. I moved deeper into the rows of accessories until I found an apple green scarf and a ruby red one. I buried them at the bottom of the wagon, under a bag of cheese doodles, and headed to the front of the store. Sam met me at the register, and I tried not to panic as I started to unload. How was I going to sneak the presents buy him?

“Oh!” Sam’s eyes grew big. “I forgot something. Keep unloading, ok?”

I nodded as Sam darted back into the store, sighing in relief. Quickly I pulled out the scarves and shoved them at the cashier. 

“Ring these up quick,” I pleaded. The cashier chuckled as he did so, then hurried to scan several more items. By the time Sam returned, the bag containing the scarves was hidden under two more bags. The cashier looked like he was fighting back laughter.

“What’d you forget?” I asked. 

Sam grinned and set a plush little elf on the pile of chips.

“Elf on a shelf,” he crowed.

“What?” I stared at the elf in confusion. It had on a red suit, with a white fringe around its neck. Big eyes were staring with a cute little expression fixed on its face. It was a bit freaky.

“Elf on a shelf,” Sam explained. “It’s supposed to sit in your house and watch you, make sure the kids are behaving and all that.”

I nodded. “You know Dean is gonna hate it, right?”

Sam grinned. “That’s why I got it.” He dug his keys out of his pocket. “Here, go get the car started, it’s just this left. I’ll be out in a minute.”

I grinned as I took the keys from him. He thought he was so clever. He had presents he was hiding too. 

“Sure,” I said. 

Behind me the cashier was chortling.

I loaded the bags into the car and turned on the heat, climbing into the passenger seat. I had brought the scarves up to the front with me, and sat with my jacket bundled up in my lap, the scarves hidden underneath. Sam came out a few minutes later, tossing the elf in the back on top of the chips. 

As soon as the bags were unloaded from the car I ran the scarves to my room, keeping them bundled in my jacket as I went. Dean helped us to put the food away, aiming a disgusted look at the tinsel. When he found the elf, I heard him yelp.

“What the hell is that thing?” 

I turned to see the elf on the floor, Dean staring down at it in alarm. Sam and I laughed.

“It’s an elf on the shelf.” Sam explained its purpose to his brother.

“It’s cute,” I lied. 

“It’s creepy.” Dean glared at it, and I picked it up. 

“What’s the matter Dean, you don’t like it?” I brought it closer to his face, and he swatted it away. I chuckled as I tossed the elf to Sam.

As soon as the groceries were put away Dean herded me off to the training room. We started with the usual pushups and sit ups, then went to the jiu-jitsu. Sam chuckled as Dean knocked me on my back again, loading weights onto the bench press.

After dinner I brought out the ornaments and glitter glue, sitting with them at the table. Dean peered over at me.

“Are you making ornaments?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I inspected the box of glitter glue I had; red, blue, green, and gold bottles. “Wanna help?”

“Sure.” Dean sighed and scooted closer, grabbing the green bottle. He got to work painting his name onto the surface of the white orb while I took the gold to another. A few minutes later we set our two ornaments down on the table, the names **Lucy** and **Dean** laid out on their surfaces. I hoped nothing made them roll before they finished drying, or gold and green glitter would go everywhere.

Dean grabbed the red bottle as he started on Sam’s, and I took the blue for Cas’s. At least I knew I’d done a good job picking out their scarves, if Dean’s color selections were anything to go by. We set them on the table to dry.

Sam came in and started slinging tinsel over the bookshelves that lined the dining room. Little pieces started coming off, drifting through the air before settling on the nearest flat surface. I laughed as Sam wrapped Dean in a length of the silver stuff. Now that we’d bought the decorations, he was getting into the holiday. He was maybe even more excited than I was. I pulled the fake tree we’d bought out of the box, setting it in the corner and plugging it in. Multicolored lights lit up on it. 

Dean fled to his room when Sam set the elf on one of the bookcases off to the side, leaving the two of us alone. I glanced over.

“You’re really getting into this,” I said. 

Sam shrugged.

“We never really had great Christmases when we were kids,” he explained. “I figured maybe we can turn that around. Besides,” he glanced over his shoulder, making sure that Dean wasn’t eavesdropping. “I think Dean needs it.”

I nodded. I had been thinking the same about them both.

I curled up in bed that night after reading from the latest book I’d taken from the library. I wasn’t afraid to fall asleep anymore, having not had another bad dream since visiting my family.

The day after Cas and I had snuck into that house, I had sat in bed thinking. Not about my family, I was determined to put them out of my mind, but about the events that had occurred in the motel. 

Even if I hadn’t been wielding a pocket knife, the manager still would have died, throat slit by the demon once it had slipped into my body. And if I’d had a proper knife, I knew, one like Cas’s, or even Ruby’s blade, I still would have killed him. There still would have been a knife in his chest, but it would have taken the demon with it.

Death, I’d realized, was inevitable with this job. If I was going to hunt, I needed to get used to it. I couldn’t sit in my room and cry every time I killed a werewolf terrorizing a town, or some demon. No matter who it was possessing.

* * * *

The next morning was Christmas. I was the first one up, rushing to the kitchen to set up some coffee. I knew the scent would lure Sam and Dean from their rooms.

The ornaments were dry, and I hung them on the tree, chuckling at the fact that Dean had written **Sammy** and not just **Sam** on his brother’s. A few minutes later the two brothers stumbled into the kitchen.

“Please tell me you’ve got more than just coffee going,” Dean moaned. I giggled and set a plate of bacon on the table. Immediately his face brightened.

I ate quickly, jogging back to my room. I had wrapped the scarves in plastic grocery bags, and I grabbed them and brought them out to the table.

“Here.” I chucked Sam and Dean their scarves, and they unwrapped them.

“What’s this?” Sam grinned as he uncovered the red knit fabric. “Thanks!”

“Fuzzy.” 

Leave it to Dean to act like a child. The not so grown man wrapped his around his neck, rubbing it in between his hands. “Thanks,” he exclaimed.

I nodded with a grin.

“Who’s that for?” Sam gestured to the third scarf, which I had set on the table next to me. 

“Cas,” I answered. “Hopefully he’ll show up on his own and we won’t have to call him down here.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Dean warned. He dug around in his pocket, pulling out two items wrapped in newspaper. He tossed one to each of us.

“Seriously?” Sam held up the hair clippers that he unwrapped, and Dean snickered.

“Nah. Here.” He produced another package and tossed it to his little brother. Sam tore off the paper, revealing a shiny new watch.

“Thanks man.” Sam slipped it onto his wrist, fastening the clap. As he did I tore open my present.

“Ohh.” I held up the pair of purple dangly earrings, watching the fake gems catch the light. But I didn’t care about that part. They were gorgeous. I pulled them through my ears. “Thanks,” I said. Dean nodded, looking pleased.

“Catch.” Sam tossed two newspaper wrapped packages at us, and Dean and I caught. This time I got to open mine first.

It turned out to be a tube of lipstick and an eye shadow palette. There was a whole range of colors there, ones that would give me a subtle look and those that would really pop. I grinned as I imagined Sam standing in the makeup aisle of the store, gazing at the rows of cosmetics in fear.

“Thanks!” I set the items down, already working out in my head what to use first. Sam had also thought to include some applicator brushes. He must’ve had help from someone who worked at the store.

Dean tore open his present, uncovering a small silver picture frame. He glanced over at Sam questioningly.

“For that picture of Mom you’ve got in your room,” Sam told him. A soft smile split Dean’s lips. 

“Thanks Sammy.” Dean stood and tossed another package on the table. “I’ll go put this on the picture. You call Cas down here.”

Sam nodded and pulled out his phone, pulling out his own present for the angel as he did. A few minutes later Dean was back, looking around the room.

“Where is he?” Dean looked over to Sam. “Did you call him?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

“You texted,” I corrected. “Try calling.”

Sam did, shaking his head. “Voicemail,” he told us. “Hey Cas, it’s Sam. When you got a sec, come on down to the bunker.” Sam flipped the phone shut.

I felt a hard ball form in my stomach. Something felt wrong. Maybe he was just busy, but I could sense that if he wasn’t in danger now, he soon would be. We needed to find him.

“Are we sure he’s ok?” I asked. “I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“Me too.” Dean disappeared, returning a few minutes later with our phones. “Do you have any messages from him?”

I checked. There was nothing. “No,” I said. “You?”

“No.” 

“Can we track his phone?” I asked.

“Maybe.” Sam grabbed the laptop from where he’d left it on the table the previous night. “If he’s on earth we can.”

Dean and I waited while Sam fiddled with the computer. A few minutes later he glanced up. “He’s in Nebraska,” Sam told us. “A couple hours away. Are we going?”

Dean considered. “Yeah,” he decided a minute later. “I’ve got a gut feeling. Let’s hit the road.”

We showered quickly, and I took a few minutes to slap on some makeup, my usual mascara and eyeliner plus the lipstick Sam had given me. I slid the earrings into my ears. I stopped at the table quickly and grabbed Cas’s presents, shoving them all into the plastic bag.

Sam and Dean were already by the car, and we quickly piled in. I spent the drive tapping my leg nervously. Needless to say, the Christmas joy had been pulled from the air.

“Ok.” Sam narrowed the parameters of his search for Cas’s phone as we pulled into McCook, Nabraska. “There’s a bunch of railways at the south edge of town; he should be there somewhere.” 

Dean nodded and guided the car to the edge of the city.

Several minutes later we were there. There wasn’t really any snow on the ground, but the wind was blowing hard. I saw Sam and Dean wrap their scarves securely around their necks as they climbed out of the car.

Directly in front of us was a bunch of tracks, trains sitting on them. They probably weren’t scheduled to be going anywhere until after the holidays. I followed Sam and Dean to the back of the car.

“Here.” Dean handed me a gun filled with rock salt. 

“I don’t know how to use that,” I said. Nonetheless I took it.

“Hopefully you won’t need to,” he said. “You’re staying with me.”

I nodded as Dean stuck Ruby’s knife in his belt. Sam did the same with the angel blade they had. I rubbed my hands together as they slammed the trunk of the car shut, each holding guns in their hands.

“Let’s go.” Dean started for the tracks and I followed, Sam staying behind us. Once we reached them he headed off in a different direction, and I shifted closer to Dean, my heart pounding.

Everything was quiet. The only sound was the wind blowing against the train cars and our footsteps. I tried to step quietly, but it was next to impossible. Suddenly Dean held up his hand, his muscles tensing. I came to a stop just behind him.

A demon jumped down from the car to our left, and Dean shoved me back. He tripped as he did, going down, and the demon moved in, grinning savagely. 

I raised the gun, pointing it at the demon and squeezing the trigger. As a bang reverberated through the air the gun kicked, and I stumbled back. To my surprise, the demon fell to the ground, the salt round hitting him in the chest. Dean jumped up and stabbed it.

“Nice,” he said. “Thanks.” 

I nodded, my mouth dry.

“Dean?” Sam appeared around the corner, gun raised. He lowered his arm as he came closer.

“We’re good.” Dean rubbed his shoulder. “I thought you said you couldn’t shoot.”

“I didn’t think I could,” I said. “Must’ve been luck.”

We started forward again, moving down the train. As we came to each car we opened the door, ready for something to jump out at us. Nothing did.

“What’s that smell?” I gagged as we moved further down the tracks, holding my hand over my nose. It smelled like rotting flesh.

“Something dead.” Dean moved forward with renewed energy, and I could see by the tenseness in his muscles that he was growing increasingly worried. Sam and I exchanged a glance and followed.

Dean threw open a train car, stepping back and coughing as he did. There was a man inside, lying face up. He was clearly dead; worms and maggots were already picking at his flesh. I forced myself to move closer and froze. 

Sam pulled me away from the cart as I gagged. “His throat is slit,” he commented. 

“Yeah.” I pointed into the car. “And he’s got wings.”

Sam and Dean peered closer, cursing a moment later. The black wings were spread out, draping up the side of the car and crossing at the ceiling. “Angel,” Dean muttered. 

“Now we know why the demon was here,” Sam said. “But where’s Cas?”

My head whipped around as we heard a rattling off to the side. The next train over was shaking, as though something had slammed into it. The three of us bolted for it, throwing open the nearest door and climbing across. Cas was on the other side, and he wasn’t alone.

There were three demons with him. The four were engaged in a vicious dance, the demons forming a triangle around Cas as they tried to land a hit. The angel was holding up pretty well, dodging and parrying with lightning speed. I glanced to the right, down the tracks, and saw two more demons headed our way.

Sam started for those two, Dean moving in to help Cas. I hung back, knowing that with only a rock salt gun and very little training I couldn’t do much. I would only get in the way.

I spun as something clambered through the train car towards me. Another demon. I raised the gun and fired off a shot, the salt round ricocheting off the inside of the train car. As the demon continued forward, unfazed, I pulled the trigger once more. Nothing happened.

I frowned, clicking the trigger again. Something must have been stuck. The demon jumped out of the car and barreled into me, and the gun fell out of my hand. It slammed me against the next car, its fist driving a blow into my stomach. I doubled over, crying out.

Then there was a flash of light. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting myself sink to my knees as it filled the air. Even with my eyes shut, flares of light danced across my vision. I rubbed at my eyeballs.

“Are you ok?”

I opened my eyes to see Cas kneeling in front of me, worry on his face. To the side lay the demon, smoking. I nodded, my vision still a bit unsteady.

“Are you?” I asked. 

Cas didn’t respond, standing and pulling me to my feet. I glanced around. All but one demon was dead, and within a moment Dean had stabbed it. It crumpled to the ground, and he wiped his knife off on it.

“You two ok?” he called. 

Cas nodded as I gave a thumbs up.

“Let’s get out of here.” Sam started for the car. “People will have heard the gunshots; the police will be on their way.”

We waited until we were safely away from the railways, back over the state border into Kansas before talking. Dean pulled to the side of the road, twisting so he could see Cas.

“What happened?” he asked.

Cas had been looking out the window, now he glanced around the interior of the car, meeting all of our eyes.

“Many of my siblings didn’t want to go back to heaven, even after it was restored,” he began. I knew the introduction was for my benefit. “They decided to stay on earth, continuing the lives that they had started. For many angels, that was the lives their vessels had inhabited.” Cas sighed.

“I’ve been searching out these angels,” he told us. “A sister of mine was found dead last week, and I realized that the angels who remained on earth didn’t know what was happening. I wanted to warn them. The angel at the railway was called Nabeek; he was a good man. He’d chosen the life of his vessel.

“I tracked down his vessel’s family, and they told me he’d be here. One of the trains just arrived this morning, and he was in charge of overseeing it. I came to warn him, but when I arrived, he was already dead.”

“Has been for a while,” Dean commented. 

Cas nodded. “His family hadn’t seen him for two days before. He often came home late, especially with the holidays. They thought he’d just gotten home and left while they were still in bed.”

“Well, at least now we know for sure it’s demons,” Sam offered. Cas didn’t comment, and I reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” I waited until he met my eyes to speak. I smiled softly, and after a moment he returned it.

“Come on.” Dean put the car into gear and pulled onto the road again. “Let’s get to the bunker. You need some time away.”

Cas shook his head. “I can’t. I have to warn the other angels.” He vanished.

I sighed. “Is he gonna be alright?” I asked.

Sam glanced back at me, worry creasing his brows. “I don’t know,” he admitted.


	13. New Years Resolutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought since I've been so behind in updating lately, I'd give you the next chapter early. Call it a (very) early Christmas present. Enjoy!

“Cas, it’s Lucy. We haven’t seen you since the railway; what’s going on? Call me back, ok? Or just pop into the bunker.” I paused, unsure what to say next. Was happy holidays appropriate given what was going on? Did the angel even care about the holidays? The phone beeped again, telling me that my time was up, and with a sigh I flipped my phone shut.

“Any luck?” Dean stuck his head in my bedroom door, and I shook my head sadly. 

We hadn’t heard from Cas in days, ever since the railway. And with demons actively hunting angels, the three of us were sufficiently worried about our trench coated friend. We hadn’t slept much since Christmas.

“Let’s get some food.” Dean disappeared down the hallway, and with a sigh I followed him. Sam was already in the kitchen, looking at the directions on a box of mac and cheese.

“Have you heard anything from Cas?” he asked.

“I just tried his cell,” I said. “Nothing.”

Sam sighed. “Do you think we should track his phone again?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Dean thought for a moment, then grabbed the computer. “Let’s do it.”

I came to stand over his shoulder as he logged on. “How about we watch where he pops up,” I said. “And if he doesn’t move soon enough we go to him.”

“Sounds fair.” Sam glanced over to Dean, and the older brother nodded.

“He’s in New York.” Dean glanced over at me, then back to the computer. “Nope, he’s moved. Hold on.” We stood and waited while the computer found his phone again. “Germany,” Dean said a minute later. “What’s he doing in Germany?”

“You don’t think angels fell solely in the United States, do you?” I asked. 

Dean ignored me. “I am not flying to Germany,” he commented. He shuddered, standing and leaving the table before either Sam or I could object.

“Hopefully we won’t have to.” Sam sat at the computer and stared at the red dot that was Cas’s phone, as though he could will it to transition to Lebanon, Kansas. 

* * * * * 

I woke up that night feeling like someone was watching me. My heart pounded as I listened. I couldn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean much. Turning over in bed, I reached over to the nightstand for the pocket knife I kept there. My hand closed around it, and I twisted, snapping out the blade as I turned to face whoever was in my room.

“Don’t move,” I ordered. I couldn’t make out who it was in the dark, just a figure standing against the wall. I reached over to the lamp, never taking my eyes off the figure.

“Cas?” I let my hand relax as the light revealed the trench coated angel. The angel in question didn’t move, not even his eyes. I rolled my own. “You can move,” I told him. “I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Oh.” Cas detached himself from the wall with a frown. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded, setting the knife back on the nightstand. “What are you doing here?” I asked, stifling a yawn. “Why were you watching me sleep?”

“I was trying to decide if I should wake you,” he told me. “Should I leave?”

“No, I’m already awake. What’s the point?” I sighed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “Why are you here?”

Cas turned his head away, taking his time answering. I really hated it when he did that. “I just…” he paused, uncertain how to continue. “Dean was right. I need to get away.”

I nodded. “Well you’re in luck,” I told him. “New Year’s Eve is tomorrow. We’ve got snacks and everything. Just what you need.”

“What’s that?”

I rolled my eyes. “You know how the earth goes around the sun?” I waited for Cas to nod. “Basically New Year’s Eve is when the earth completes its orbit, and everyone throws a party to celebrate the fact that a meteor didn’t wipe us out of space or something.”

“That seems… interesting.” Cas seemed unsure about what he thought of the event. 

I laughed. “Definitely. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

Cas followed me to the kitchen, and I riffled through the shelves, trying to be quiet. I didn’t see the need to wake Sam and Dean. I ended up opening the bag of cheese doodles, setting them on the table in between Cas and I. The angel reached over and took one, inspecting the orange sponged surface. His lip curled in disgust. 

“Oh come on.” I grabbed the cheese doodle from his hand. “These are good.” I popped it in my mouth. Cas shook his head sadly.

I swallowed. “Can I ask you something?” I asked. 

Cas glanced over at me. “Of course,” he said. His eyes dimmed to a royal blue as a serious look took over his face. “What is it?”

“You never eat, which I get, cos angels don’t need to. Except, when we were traveling together, you never turned down a burger. Why is that?”

Cas smiled sadly. “Jimmy,” came his one word answer.

“Jimmy?” I frowned. “Wasn’t he-”

“My vessel, yes.” Cas sighed. “After Lucifer killed me, well, you remember, yes?” 

I nodded. I’d been horrified watching how Cas had exploded in a spray of red blood, then thrilled when he’d suddenly reappeared. 

“You were reformed,” I recalled out loud. “No one knows who brought you back. But when you’d been killed Jimmy died, and he didn’t come back with you.”

Cas nodded. “When Dean, Sam, and I faced the horseman of famine, I learned that Jimmy was fond of red meat. So I suppose I eat the burgers to honor his memory.”

I smiled. That was sweet. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I settled on leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek. Cas’s face reddened as I pulled away, and I laughed softly.

“Hey.” We glanced up to see Dean stumble in, Sam just behind him. “Cas! Where the hell have you been? We’ve been worried!” 

Cas stood as Dean moved in for a hug, the older Winchester slapping his hand on his youngest brother’s back. Sam came in next, and he and Cas hugged as well.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said. “I had to warn the other angels.”

“Did you get to them all?” Sam gestured to the computer. “We’ve been keeping track of you; you were in Germany.”

Cas frowned. “How did you do that?” he asked.

“We tracked your phone.” Dean snagged a handful of cheese doodles. “As long as it’s on and you’re on earth we can find you.”

Cas nodded slowly, his eyebrows creasing. For lack of anything better to do he reached over and grabbed a cheese doodle, biting down. We all watched him, waiting for his reaction.

Cas made a face, grabbing a wad of napkins and spitting the munched up piece of cheese doodle in it. “No,” he coughed. “I’m sorry. That is- that is bad.”

We all laughed. Dean doubled over, his hands on his thighs, Sam turning away and leaning against the wall, his shoulders quaking. I was forced to sit down before my laughter knocked me over. Cas moved over to the tree, touching the ornaments hanging from its branches. I smiled as he fingered the one with his name on it, **Cas** written in blue glitter glue.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s an ornament.” I stepped over, pointing to the others. “We wrote our names on them and put them on the tree. It’s a Christmas tradition to have an ornament with your name on it.”

“It is?”

Sam nodded. “Apparently. My Christmases were generally Kentucky Fried Chicken and whatever present Dean stole from the nearest house.”

Dean crossed his arms. “You loved that doll and you know it.”

Sam shot Dean a quick glare before moving to the tree. “Here.” He shoved the cord into the wall, and behind the ornaments the tree lit up. Cas caught his breath.

“You like it?” Dean grinned as Cas nodded, lost for words. I gave him an _I told you so_ look.

* * * * * 

By unspoken consent we put aside all issues, temporarily forgetting everything that was wrong with the world. Cas opened his presents, my scarf, Dean’s watch, and Sam’s picture frame. Cas held up the frame.

“What’s this for?” he asked. “I don’t own any photos.”

“You will.” Sam grabbed a camera I hadn’t known he’d had, setting it up on its stand. “Just like last time,” he said. He glanced around. “There’s just been a few changes in who’s in it.”

With a shock I remembered an old photograph, of the Winchester trio, along with Bobby, Ellen, and Jo. The photograph had been taken the night before they’d tried to kill Lucifer with the colt. The night before Ellen and Jo had died. I wiped the tears from my eyes and joined the boys in front of the tree for the picture.

Sam, being the tallest, stood in the middle, Dean and Cas flanking him. I was in front, leaning comfortably against Sam’s stomach, Dean and Cas each with a hand on my shoulder. The camera flashed.

A few seconds later the picture ejected from the camera, and Sam started waving it in the air as the ink set or something. I had no idea how those old cameras worked. When the picture was ready we looked at it. It was nice, the tree lighting up the background, the corner of the cheese doodle bag visible on the table. We looked normal, not like we spent our free time chasing demons and other monsters.

“Nice.” Sam handed the photo to Cas, and he carefully set it into the frame.

“Where do I put this?” he asked. “I don’t have a place that’s mine.”

“You can keep it here.” Dean took the silver frame and set it on the table. “You know this place is your home too, right?”

Cas looked like he didn’t know what to say. He looked around at the three of us, and slowly silence befell the group, until the only noise was the soft whirring of the machines that powered the lights.

* * * * 

We all ended up in one of the spare bedrooms, dragging in a bunch of blankets and sheets. We piled them on the floor until the entire room was one big soft mattress, sprawling out all around. The setup reminded me of my last nightmare, but I fervently pushed it out of my mind. We were acting normal for the day.

We chatted about this and that, nothing important. When I glanced over at the clock I was surprised how much time had passed. It was five thirty in the morning, five hours after I had woken to find the Cas in my bedroom.

Just because it was the last day of the year didn’t mean Dean was going to let up on me. He dragged me to the training room, Sam and Cas watching as we trained. Sam took over after a while, commenting that Dean could take it a little bit easy on me. 

I could feel Cas’s blue eyes watching me as I trained. Why, I had no idea. I had no idea what could possibly be so interesting about seeing me get my ass kicked repeatedly.

“Better.” Sam reached down to pull me up. I grasped his arm, annoyed and tired. He wasn’t much better than Dean at the whole taking it easy thing. 

“Next time, try using this.” Sam showed me a move, and I tried- and failed- to copy it. I ground my teeth as I toppled over.

“Come on, that one’s easy.” Dean rolled his eyes as I failed a second time. “Even Cas could do it.”

I glared at him. “That doesn’t really help me, does it? And that is not an easy move.”

Dean pushed away from the wall, gesturing for Cas to join him on the mat. “Try the move,” he instructed the angel.

Cas slipped into action, and a second later Dean was lying on his back, Cas standing over him. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. A moment later my grin faded as I realized Dean had been right.

“Great.” I threw my hands up in the air. “This is impossible.”

“No it’s not.” Dean stood, taking over again. “You’re gonna do bad. You’re gonna get knocked on your backside, but one day it’s gonna click. Then you’ll be knocking us over.”

“My New Year’s Resolution,” I stated.

“What’s that?” Cas was confused again.

“It’s a promise you make at the start of each year, something you want to do, or want to never do again. It’s like a checklist, and you give yourself a year to do it.”

“What if you don’t?” Cas asked. “What then?”

“Then nothing.” Sam shrugged as he grabbed his water bottle. “Generally you just make the same resolution each year until you finally do it.”

Cas nodded. “Are we all making New Year’s Resolutions?” he asked.

“If you want.” Dean thought for a minute. “Let’s see, mine is gonna be to eat more pie, drink more beer.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ll go for organizing that library.” He winced, and I laughed. He’d barely made a dent in the shelves of books.

“What should mine be?” Cas glanced around at the three of us.

“How about no more just standing in my room while I’m asleep,” I suggested. “Seriously, it’s creepy.”

Cas nodded. “Sorry.”

“S’ok.” I glanced at Dean. “Please tell me we’re done for the day.”

Dean chuckled. “Sure. Hit the shower.”

I fled from the room before he changed his mind and called me back for more sit-ups.

* * * * *

When I got to the kitchen Sam had the oven going, and was pulling out a tray of pigs in a blanket. He and Dean were freshly showered, dressed in their usual flannel. I was no different, but somehow it looked cute on me. I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not.

I grabbed one of the pigs in a blanket off the tray, popping it in my mouth. 

“Hothothothot.” I hopped around the kitchen, rushing to swallow it as it scalded my mouth and throat. Sam laughed.

“Warning, those are hot.” Dean clomped into the kitchen, Cas on his heels, and I glared at the smirk the eldest brother had on his face.

“Thank you Captain Obvious.”

“We should get out of here.” Sam leaned against the counter. “We don’t have a TV, we should go to a café or something and watch the ball drop.”

“Why is that?” I asked. “I thought you two did have a TV.”

“It got smashed,” said Dean. “Long story.”

“But we just made a bunch of food,” I objected.

“And we’ll eat it,” Sam promised. “Tonight, tomorrow, trust me, it’ll get eaten. But don’t you wanna see the ball drop?”

I sighed. “Yeah,” I admitted. I glanced over at Cas. “Do you know what we’re talking about?”

Cas nodded. “I do this time,” he stated. He looked so proud of himself.

* * * * *

We hung around at the bunker for the majority of the night, playing cheap board games that Sam and I had bought at the store. By eleven thirty we were situated at the nearest café, sipping hot cocoa as we watched the little TV on the corner of the bar.

Around us were a few other people. A young couple that was escaping the wind, a businessman who had nowhere else to be but the office. Behind the counter the owner was tidying up. I suspected his big business booms were earlier in the night and early the next morning, when all the drunks came out looking for another beer. 

We watched the New York City celebration, watching singers parade across the screen as they put on a show for all the poor idiots who’d decided to go freeze their butts off. As the final countdown for the year began an energy seemed to take over the café, one last burst of adrenaline as the giant orb sank lower and lower. 

The woman in the corner of the shop laughed with excitement, shouting out the countdown. Soon the rest of us were counting with her, timidly at first, then with more fire, until we were all screaming.

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, happy New Year!”

As the clock struck midnight I glanced around me at the three people I was with. Their faces were flushed, even Cas’s, the frenzy of a brand new year taking hold in them. Dean was grinning like a fool as his eyes swept left and right, taking in every minute detail as though he’d never seen before. Sam was laughing silently, for no particular reason at all, and Cas looked for the first time like he was at peace. I smiled as I watched my family ring in the New Year.


	14. Why Not to go Ice Fishing Where People Have Disappeared

I studied my new tattoo curiously, moving my eyes along the black lines that made up the first star and the empty space crisscrossing over it that was implied to be a lighter star. Black flames, sketched in ink, leaped out from the pattern, making it seem like the pentagram within was expanding in its power, a fiery guardian. 

The ink nearly blended into my skin, but my dark brown skin was just light enough of a brown that the ink wasn’t completely lost against it. Depending on what angle I looked at it from, the tattoo had varying degrees of visibility. I had put it on my waist, just above my right hip. There, it would be hidden from sight, even if I decided to wear a tank top when summer came. 

I hurried to throw on my shirt as someone knocked on my door, throwing it open a moment later. Dean was leaning against the frame, the keys to the impala in his hand.

“Come on,” he said. “It’s time you learned how to drive.”

I grinned and followed him down the hall, grabbing my wallet and stuffing it in my pocket as I went. As we reached the car Dean turned to me, letting the keys dangle through his fingers. Hesitantly, I reached up for them.

Dean pulled his hand back before I could take them. “Ground rules,” he started. “Do what I say, when I say it. If I tell you to stop, you stop. If I say hit the gas, just do it. If I tell you to let me drive, don’t ask questions, just slide over. Ok?”

I nodded. “Got it.” 

“And you know which pedal is the gas and what’s the brake?”

I nodded. “Right is gas, left is brake.”

Dean nodded, then extended his arm again. This time I grabbed the keys and ran for the driver’s door.

The lesson went pretty well. Dean was a good teacher, patiently guiding me through the streets on the edge of the nearest neighborhood. After a few hours he allowed me to drive back to the bunker. The whole time we were on the main road I gripped the wheel until the hard rubber dug into my fingers. 

Sam was polishing off the last of the pigs in a blanket, quickly shoving the last in his mouth as Dean and I clomped into the room. Dean scowled at him, but reached for a bag of chips. I sighed and grabbed an apple; someone had to eat healthy.

“How’d she do?” Sam swallowed the food in his mouth, wincing as it all crammed down his throat. 

Dean nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the counter. “Not bad,” he admitted. 

I grinned as Dean gave me a smile, Sam’s grin nearly matching mine. 

“Great,” Sam said. “And here’s you’re reward.” He pulled a pig in a blanket out from where he’d hidden it under a napkin and handed it to me. I laughed and bit down, enjoying primarily the taste of hot dog, secondly Dean’s outraged look.

“I think I found us a case,” Sam added. He moved into the dining room, turning the laptop towards us. Dean and I scanned the article together, and I hit the down arrow to scroll through the paragraphs.

There wasn’t much to it. A couple had gone ice fishing on a lake buried deep in a forest in Pennsylvania, and they hadn’t come back. They weren’t the first to disappear. Over the past few months, five other people had gone missing. 

“I don’t get it,” I said. “If that many people have gone missing there, why do people still decide it’s the perfect spot to go hiking?”

Dean chuckled. “Well, two of them were rangers looking for survivors. The first three were college students spending the weekend after Thanksgiving in one of their parent’s cabin.”

I nodded. “And these two?” I gestured to the screen. “I mean, come on! How stupid are people?”

Sam chortled. “You tell me. You’re the one who latched onto an angel and two hunters from a different universe.”

I scowled and crossed my arms. “Shut up.”

The two brothers laughed. 

“So,” Sam turned to Dean. “We leave tomorrow?”

Dean nodded, a pensive look in his eyes. I frowned as he moved silently down the hall, and Sam and I traded looks. 

“I’ll go talk to him,” Sam told me. “You go pack.”

I nodded, pleased by his offer. It meant that he planned on bringing me with them. Like I would have stayed behind. I’d have hid in the back of the impala before I let those two work a case without me.

I checked my phone as I shut my door behind me, but there were no messages. It had been a few days since New Year’s Eve, and we hadn’t heard from Cas since. He’d accompanied us back to the bunker, where we’d spent another hour or so celebrating the New Year. As it became apparent that Sam, Dean, and I were about ready to fall asleep where we stood, Cas had bid us goodbye and vanished. I somehow doubted he had gone to another party.

I sighed and tossed the phone on my bed. Wherever he was, I hoped he was alright. I started to pack my backpack, shoving in several changes of clothes and my toiletries. It took me all of ten minutes. I curled up in bed with the latest book I’d taken from the library, falling asleep with it clutched in my hands.

* * * * *

The next morning I stumbled into the kitchen to see Sam and Dean pause in a whispered argument. They both shot me a glance, then resumed arguing furtively under their breaths.

I rolled my eyes. “What’s going on you two?” 

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother, daring him to tell me. With a sigh, Dean turned to face me.

“We think you should stay here,” he stated.

“ _We_ do not think that,” Sam interjected. “ _He_ does.” Sam shot a glare at his brother, but it was a candle next to the bonfire of my own glare.

“I will not stay here,” I said. “I’m here for a reason. To be a hunter! I can’t do that if I can’t hunt!”

“You’re not ready yet,” Dean snapped.

“I handled myself well enough at the railway,” I shot back. “I saved your ass.” 

Dean gritted his teeth, forcing himself to ignore my comment. 

“You’re still not ready,” he said. When I continued to glare at him he held up his hand in a peace gesture. “Listen to me. I have no problem with you working cases. I mean, I wish to god that you didn’t want to hunt, but I know you’ll do it no matter what I think, so the least I can do is keep you safe! I just don’t want you to get hurt Lucy! Ok?”

I gulped. I could tell I’d struck a raw nerve with Dean; his usually twinkling green eyes were positively flaming, worry, anger, and guilt swirling around in a giant whirlpool. I forced myself to calm down. Yelling at each other wasn’t going to help anything. Past experiences had proved that.

“I know,” I said. I forced my voice into a calm tone as I spoke, doing my best to soothe Dean. “I’m not saying that I want to go running at anything that goes bump in the night just yet, I just don’t want to get left behind.” I averted my gaze now, tears threatening to spill over. I forced them down. “Yeah, I want to go on the actual hunts. But I’m willing to start small. Put me on research duty. Just don’t leave me.” I choked to a stop, squeezing my eyes closed. I could imagine myself pattering around the bunker for the next few days, waiting for Sam and Dean to get back. I didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want to be the one left behind, waiting, hoping that her family would come home. And a part of me was afraid that if they left, even for a day, they’d decide that they didn’t want me anymore.

They were all I had here. This was the only home I had in this world, these brothers and Cas, the third, unofficial brother, were the closest thing I had to family. I couldn’t lose them too.

I forced myself to look up as I felt a hand on my shoulder. Sam smiled softly down on me, and I forced my lips to curl up in response. Glancing across the room, I saw Dean leaning against the counter, trying to compose himself. Eventually he nodded slowly, finally meeting my eyes.

“Ok,” he said. His voice was slightly deeper than usual, though still steady. “You can come. But do what I say ok? And be careful.”

I nodded, for once not in the mood to make a joke out of my response. “Promise,” I whispered. 

Dean nodded, pleased, and pushed off the counter, ruffling my hair as he passed by me. Sam shot me a quick grin.

* * * * *

It took us a day to get to Pennsylvania, and we arrived midday. The first thing we did was find a motel and settle in. Sam and Dean seemed a bit wary to have me by myself, but I managed to assure them that I would be fine. They were right next door, not all the way across town. Nothing would happen.

Nevertheless, I was still a bit nervous as I locked the door behind me. Sam and Dean had gone to take a look at the police’s records, under the guises of FBI agents. Since I was too young to pass off as any sort of official, there was little I could do. I was on standby until I got word from one of the brothers, ready to start researching on the computer. 

Two hours later a knock came at the door. I approached slowly, heart pounding, knife out, and looked through the peephole. Sam and Dean waited impatiently on the other side, still in their suits. With a sigh of relief I opened the door.

“What’d you find out?” I asked. 

Dean threw himself onto the bed closest to the door, Sam parking himself at the table and stretching out his legs. I curled up at the bottom of the bed Dean was on, switching my gaze back and forth between the two.

“Not much.” Sam spread a map out on the table. “There aren’t any bodies, but all six vics went missing in around the same area.” He pointed to the map, where a red circle encompassed a small area of forest. A small portion of that land was taken up by a lake, small in diameter, but big enough to house a lovely view for several small cabins.

“This cabin here is where the three college students were staying,” Sam said. He pulled out another map, this one showing only the set of cabins and the area around them. A red x had been placed over the second cabin to the bottom of the page. “And this is the same lake that the latest vics went missing on.” Sam tapped the lake the cabins overlooked with his finger.

I nodded. “So, what do we do now?” In reality I knew what the next logical step was, I just wasn’t sure if I would be allowed to come with the two hunters.

Dean sighed. “You want to come, don’t you,” he asked. 

I nodded, looking hopefully into his eyes.

“I can handle it,” I promised. “I’ll stay with you two.”

Dean traded looks with Sam, and the brothers seemed to communicate silently, in that way that only siblings who were very close could do. After several long moments Dean nodded reluctantly.

“Fine,” he said. “But don’t do anything stupid. And no wandering off.”

I rolled my eyes. “Believe me, I have no desire to get lost in a forest in the middle of winter.”

It took us over an hour to reach the trails that lead to the cabin, leaving the impala in a small parking lot just before the dirt paths began. Sam handed me a rock salt gun and a silver knife, and I stuck them in my belt, tapping my back pocket to ensure that my pocket knife was still there.

It was freezing out. The paths had long since hardened; no puffs of dirt announced our movement, no crunch of the earth under our feet. We moved silently, only the shuddering of our breaths in the cold air alerting any animals surrounding the paths to our presence.

Sam left the car first, holding the map in front of his face to direct us to the right path. After that we walked abreast each other, not saying a word. For some reason, I couldn’t help but feel like it was inappropriate to talk at that time. We were on a case, and we needed to focus. I switched my attention to scanning the paths around us for any unusual signs.

We reached the cabin without incident. Yellow tape was stretched across the doorframe, alerting us to the fact that the police were still investigating the disappearances of the three college kids. We each scanned around us nervously, though I doubted there was anyone around this time of year, then ducked under the tape and into the cabin.

My heart was pounding as I held the gun in front of me, taking care to point it at the ground as I moved. I stayed just behind the boys, my eyes darting from shadow to shadow in the old house.

It was cozy, or would have been under different circumstances. A large sofa sat in the middle of the room, facing towards an old fireplace, logs and ash still littering the floor. There was a small table next to the couch that had once held a lamp, but it had been knocked onto the floor. Pictures of the family that owned the cabin decorated the walls, but many were shattered, as if someone had been slammed into them; one of the frames had even fallen to the floor. There were a few spots of blood on the floor, only adding to the evidence of a struggle. I shivered.

“There’s not enough blood for them to be dead,” I said. “Whoever took them wanted them alive.”

I must have had something resembling hope on my face, because Sam hurried to add to what I said. “Whatever they were taken for, it’s not good.” 

I scowled. I knew that. Five months without a trace? There was no coming back from that. Still, I kept my mouth shut as we continued to move through the cabin. 

Whoever had been taken from the kitchen had put up more of a fight. Pans that had been used to batter at an attacker lay on the floor where they’d been dropped, the same with a large butcher’s knife, sticky with someone’s blood. A flower vase lay in shards on the counter and floor, the fake flowers it had once held fallen into the sink.

But there was no sign of a third struggle. Either two people had been taken from the same room, the third person hadn’t put up much of a fight, or they hadn’t been taken from within the cabin. Lifting the shades on a window, I peered out at the lake. There was an old wooden dock projecting out into the water, ice forming a rim around the support beams. 

“Let’s go to the lake,” I said.

Dean raised an eyebrow in annoyance. “This isn’t really the time for sightseeing,” he objected.

“Yes it is.” I decided not to elaborate, moving out of the house and heading for the dock. Sam and Dean trailed after me in mixed confusion and annoyance, jogging to catch up with my sure, rapid footsteps. 

At the waterline, next to the dock, the dirt and forest foliage turned to a rocky slope. I moved to the dock, running my fingers along the rough surface. As I felt wood splinters attempt to lodge themselves in my hand I pulled away, but still moved closer to the water.

“Here,” I called.

Sam and Dean moved closer, peering at what I was pointing to. Their eyes widened as they took in the brown stain of dried blood on the wood. Off to the side Sam grabbed a rock that was about twice the size of the majority of pebbles that littered the shore, turning it over in his hand.

“This has blood on it too,” he commented. “Our goon must have snuck up behind the vic and hit him over the head with this.” Sam looked at me inquisitorially. “How did you figure it out?”

I allowed a small smile to tug at the corner of my mouth. “They came out here in late November. The lake might not have been frozen then. I figured if I had spent my life coming up here on weekends, the one thing that I would’ve learned was how to skip stones.” I grabbed a flat rock from the collection on the shore, skimming it out over the ice. It bounced across its surface, and though it didn’t make it to the opposite shore, I could tell that it would have been a very good shot if the water weren’t frozen.

“Nice job.” Dean knelt down, examining the dock and the area around it. There was a hole beneath the dock, where the men who’d built it hadn’t bothered to fill in the earth beneath, and Dean shone his flashlight into its depths. 

“I can’t see anything,” he commented dryly. He eyed the hole, quickly rejecting the idea of himself fitting into it, and stood. I was already in motion, shrugging off my jacket and crawling into the tunnel, dragging myself forward on my elbows. Behind me Dean cursed.

“What are you doing?” he called. “Get out of there!” He tried to yank at my foot but I kicked out, and I glanced back to see Sam place a restraining hand on his brother.

“Please,” I called. “It’s just a silly tunnel. What’s the worst that can happen? A spider?” 

Behind me Dean mumbled something unintelligibly. I ignored him.

I moved further into the hole. It was made of narrow, dirt packed walls, and above me the wooden dock prevented me from even raising myself to my knees. Enough sunlight filtered through the slots between the wood panels for me to see, something I was grateful for. I would have needed to twist uncomfortably to reach my flashlight.

“Anything?” Sam leaned into the hole, and I scowled as the tunnel dimmed. 

“No,” I called. “Get out of my light.”

I crawled all the way to the other side of the tunnel. There were no tunnels leading off of the one I’d crawled into, no little alcoves where something- or someone, could be shoved. I stood, jumping onto the dock and crossing over to the side Sam and Dean were on.

“Nothing,” I declared. I glanced down at myself, scowling as I realized I was covered in mud. I did my best to brush it off, then gave up. I was gonna need a shower. With a chuckle, Sam tossed me my jacket.

“So, now what?” I asked.

Dean sighed, running a hand over his head. “We’ve gotta find our vics,” he said. He grabbed the map from Sam’s back pocket, unfolding it. I peered over his shoulder.

“Are we assuming they’re dead?” I asked.

Reluctantly, Dean nodded.

I glanced behind me towards the lake, then climbed up on the dock again. Walking to the edge of the pier, I stared out over the icy surface. Near the center the ice was weaker, which, I supposed, was to be expected. But there was something else on the ice, not too far away from the center of the ice. Frowning, I jumped off the dock.

“Lucy!” I ignored Sam’s voice as I made my way forward, holding my arms out as I moved across the ice. I glanced behind me as I heard shuffling, and saw that Sam and Dean were following me.

It took me a few minutes to reach the center, but I did eventually. Somehow, I managed not to fall. The same couldn’t be said for the other two. Sam slipped, and as Dean automatically reached out to steady him, his meager balance on the ice slipped. The two fell in a heap. 

“There’s a footprint!” I called. I glanced over to where the boys were helping each other stand, gritting their teeth as they struggled to get to their feet. After a minute they did so, and slowly crossed the rest of the distance between them and me.

“So someone was on the ice,” Sam stated. “I’d guess recently. The ice hasn’t been broken long.” He was analyzing the jagged edges of the ice where the pieces met.

“The footprint is facing away from the broken ice,” observed Dean. “Like someone broke it and walked away.” 

I glanced at him. “So, do you think…?” I trailed off. I had already guessed at the answer; it was why I’d come out here on the lake in the first place. But it was finally dawning on me that to find out, we’d more than likely have to get in the water. The thought wasn’t all that appealing.

“Only one way to find out.” Dean pulled out Ruby’s knife, and gesturing for us to move back, knelt down and stabbed it into the ice. A chunk broke off.

Sam and I knelt to help him, slowly widening the hole. Soon we looked down into the lake, the surface of the unfrozen water beneath rippling as pieces of ice bobbed on the surface. 

“I can’t see anything,” I complained. “The water’s too murky.”

Sam nodded. “And this ice isn’t helping either.” He scowled at the chunks bobbing on the surface of the lake, obscuring our view.

“Stop your whining,” muttered Dean. He turned and headed back to shore, and we followed. 

“Look for sticks,” he ordered. “The biggest you can find.”

We nodded and split up. I made my way into the cabin, seeing if maybe there was anything useful there. There was a sort of garage under the house, where a variety of tools were gathered. I looked over them. A couple of fishing rods, a shovel, and some tennis rackets. A small boat was upside down so that water could drain out of it, the oars sitting to the side. I grinned as I grabbed one. Perfect.

“I got something,” I called, leaving the cabin. Sam and Dean appeared, nodding with approval at the long wooden oar I held. We made our way back out to the center of the ice, where Dean took the oar and proceeded to poke at the water with it.

First he pushed the chunks of ice to the side, and I lay on my stomach on the edge of the ice and hauled them up beside me. Once they were out of the way, Dean thrust the paddle deeper into the water, poking around as he felt around its murky depths. He frowned at one point, moving the paddle around, and I saw a dark shadow pass over his face.

“What?” I asked. Sam took the paddle next, then allowed me to poke around. There was something big floating in the water, weighed down by something tied around its center. It was both hard and soft at once, frozen in the frigid temperatures, but still soft enough that it gave a little as I poked at it. I felt something catch, but whatever it was it didn’t prohibit me from pulling the oar free without too much effort. It took me a minute, but then I realized what the thing was. A body.

I swept the paddle from side to side, and quickly found another body. Once I’d done that I handed the oar back to Dean, and he and Sam both took a few pokes at the other person under the water.

“Where are the others?” I asked. 

Sam shrugged.

“The last people to go missing were the rangers, and that was at the beginning of December,” he explained. “These guys are probably only floating because they’re all bloated. Once the fish have a go though, there won’t be enough left to hold them up, just bones, and they’ll sink down.”

I gagged. “Oh my god,” I squealed. “I am never going to get that image out of my head.” I shuddered, imagining fish picking at bodies suspended in the lake. Then I shuddered again as images of the bloated faces of our latest vics flashed through my mind. Beside me Sam and Dean chuckled.

“Yeah, keep laughing, both of you,” I growled. “We’ll see who has the final laugh.”

I got a snicker and raised eyebrow in response.

I took a deep breath. “We need to get the bodies out, don’t we?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Sam admitted. “They might be able to tell us what killed them.”

I eyed the water distastefully. “I would prefer it if we could manage to do so without getting in.” The water was already forming a thin sheet of ice on its surface. To get in would be signing up for pneumonia.

Dean seemed to have the same concerns as me. He stuck the oar back in the water, trying to bat the closer of the two victims to where one of us could reach in and grab the body. “Get the other paddle,” he ordered.

Within five minutes Sam had fetched it, and together the two brothers managed to drag the body closer. Which left me to reach into the water and grab it. I pulled off my jacket and rolled up my sleeves, reaching tentatively down. The water was freezing, but I ignored it, stretching my arm until I found what felt like an arm.

I wanted to pull back, run away, and use a whole tub of hand sanitizer on my arm. But I wasn’t going to be a hunter if I couldn’t handle even this much gore. Really it wasn’t even gore. My hand had closed around a sleeve, so I wasn’t even in direct contact with the dead person’s skin. So, with gritted teeth, I grabbed a hold of the corpse and pulled.

“Got it,” I called. 

Sam and Dean set the paddles down and moved to help me, and together we dragged the body up and onto the ice. The arm I had caught a hold up led, as all arms do, to a shoulder, and I grabbed under the left armpit while Dean grabbed under the right armpit. We began to pull, and I looked up, around us, anywhere but at the bloated face beneath me. 

Sam grabbed at the chain around the body’s waist, hauling up the brick attached to the other end. He quickly unwound the chain, and we dragged the body off the lake.

As soon as we reached shore I dropped the arm I’d been holding, stepping quickly away. I started to wipe my hands off on my jeans, then reconsidered. I ended up awkwardly waving my arms through the air to dry them off.

Dean tossed me my jacket. Sam was already kneeling by the body, peeling away wet layers of clothes. I followed, keeping a foot or so back as the two brothers inspected the man.

“Come here.” Sam gestured for me to join them, and with a grimace I knelt beside them. A hole had been torn through the man’s torso, baring open his ribs and stomach. Or what had been his ribs and stomach. His intestines were a shredded mess, as though something had combed-literally-through them and picked out the best bits to eat. A hole had been punched through the rib cage, and I could see a hole in his chest where his heart had once been.

“Werewolf?” I guessed. 

Dean nodded, drawing the man’s shredded parka up to cover the remains of his chest as best as he could. 

“So now what?” I asked. I was really asking that a lot lately.

“Now we find the wolf,” Dean stated. It sounded so simple in his voice, like he was talking about the most obvious of things.

“Ok, but how? We’ve got an entire forest to search,” I commented. “We need a plan.”

“I think I’ve got one,” Sam offered.

“What’s that?” I asked. I glanced up at him, frowning when I saw his attention was focused elsewhere. Following his gaze, I gulped at what I saw. Four people stood on the small hill that lead from the lake up to the cabin. Each had shaggy hair, wore matching grins, and sported rapidly sharpening teeth.

"Run," said Sam.


	15. Is Today the International Day of Really Bad Plans or Something?

I really hate something about books. Whenever some sort of fight is about to break out, the author always puts “and then time seemed to stand still.” Well, let me tell you something. When you suddenly find yourself staring down four werewolves with only a single silver dagger as a lethal weapon against them, time does _not_ slow down.

Sam and Dean instantly stepped forward, hiding me from view. They raised silver blades of their own, and I cursed in my head. Had neither of them thought to bring silver bullets? Had I not thought to?

Yep, with thinking like ours, we were screwed.

“Stay back,” Dean instructed me. I gulped and nodded, my heart pounding. I pulled out my knife, holding it in what I hoped was a good position. The werewolves circled around us, and we put ourselves back to back. So much for me staying out of things.

“Any ideas?” I muttered. The boys ignored me, busy scanning around us for something we could use. I did the same. I was facing the lake, with one werewolf focused on me. It seemed that the other three would be ganging up on Sam and Dean.

I figured the werewolf, who had shaggy brown hair and a few missing teeth, would expect me to play defense, maybe try to run. So I did the exact opposite, charging him as I ignored Sam’s yells behind me.

The werewolf backed up to avoid my flashing dagger, moving towards the lake. I grinned as an idea formed. It wasn’t much, but it was a plan. Well, half of a plan.

I moved forward again, throwing caution to the wind as I blindly swiped at the werewolf. Now thoroughly startled, the werewolf was in full retreat. As he backed up another step I pulled out my gun and fired off a shot. It flew past him, nowhere near hitting him, and he turned slightly as it punctured the lake, ice chips flying.

He laughed. “I don’t think you’re aim is very good,” he commented. 

I squeezed off another round, and it hit the ice a few feet away from where the first shot had collided. I fired off two more rounds, and thin, spider-web cracks appeared on the surface of the ice.

The wolf jumped back again as I rushed forward once more, driving him out onto the surface of the lake. We both slipped as I followed him, but managed to keep our feet. I kept moving forward, and though I was much more wobbly on my feet than before I still succeeded in driving the werewolf back. Soon he was standing upon the cracked portion of the ice, and I raised the gun once more. His gaze travelled downwards, and he realized too late what I was about to do.

“No!”

I squeezed the trigger.

The ice shattered, and he dove forward. As he fell his hands wrapped around my forearms, pulling me with him. I barely had time to take a quick gasp of air before we went under the water.

It was freezing. The water felt like a hundred cold daggers being driven into my skin. All the air I’d been holding in my puffed out cheeks escaped as I screamed, water taking the place of the sweet oxygen. I tried to swim to the surface of the lake, but the werewolf now had my arms pinned. He held me where I was, and, slowed by the water, my kicks had little effect on him.

He switched my arms so that he was holding them both with one hand, then delivered a sharp blow to my stomach. The water lessened the velocity of his punch, but it still hurt. I whimpered, and water flooded up my nose.

I drove my head forward, cracking it against his. He pulled back with a yelp, panic spreading over his face as he too inhaled water. I quickly scanned around me for my knife. Where had I dropped it?

There. I could just make out the silver blade glinting in the murky water, and dove downwards. It was the opposite of where I wanted to go, especially as my vision began to turn colors, but I didn’t have much choice. Through the pounding in my ears I could hear the swoosh of water as the werewolf gave pursuit, and hurried down to where the knife had settled at the bottom of the lake. I fumbled for it, my fingers barely closing around the hilt before I twisted, catching the oncoming werewolf in the eye. Blood squirted as he screamed, a sound that was audible even under the water.

I swam upwards immediately. I didn’t have time to feel sick at what I’d just done. My vision was fading, my limbs feeling heavier and heavier. Reaching the top, I went to break the surface only to crash into a sheet of ice. It had already reformed. I pounded on it with my fists, then drove my dagger into it. I yanked it out and stabbed again and again, even as my vision disappeared entirely.

The next thing I was aware of was being dragged across the ice. Whoever was dragging me was making no attempts to be gentle, and I knew immediately that it wasn’t Sam or Dean. As I was dumped unceremoniously on the shore I turned my head to cough, water spurting out of my mouth. I pulled myself up onto my elbows, reluctantly forcing my frozen muscles to work, and saw one of the werewolves surface in the lake, holding his companion in his arms. Blood still flowed freely from where his left eye had once been, and he screamed, long and shrill.

I looked around me. The werewolves were a bit battered, but with the exception of the one I’d stabbed, they were relatively unharmed. I glanced around me in worry, finding the motionless forms of Sam and Dean to the side. They each sported ugly welts on the sides of their heads, blood leaking down their faces. They must have been distracted by my fall into the lake, giving the other three wolves the chance they needed to take them down.

I turned weakly as I heard footsteps. A third wolf was approaching me, murder in his eyes. I cringed, knowing what was next, but my weak arm couldn’t stop the tree branch he slammed into my head. Everything went dark.

* * * * 

I groaned as my senses returned to me, blinking dazedly. My head hurt, and I could feel something hard on the side of my face. I had no idea if it was ice or blood. Finally opening my eyes, I was worried but not surprised to feel that ice had sealed my lids shut. Groaning again, I rested my head against the wooden floor beneath me as my vision swum.

Wait? Wood?

I bolted upright, which was hard to do, and immediately regretted it. Hissing as pain flared through my temples, I sagged backwards, onto my elbows. 

“Lucy?” Dean’s voice came from somewhere to my right. I turned my head weakly, and when I tried to brace my hands against the floor I ended up falling. Grunting in pain, I shouldered myself into a sitting position again, only just realizing that my hands were bound behind my back.

“Dean?” I answered. “Sam?”

“Lucy!” Now Sam’s voice answered me, and I scooted closer to its source. A moment later my leg brushed against someone’s boot, and I nudged at it.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“Me.” Sam sounded relieved to know that I was beside him. I scooted back further, until we were side by side, our arms brushing.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked.

I winced. I wasn’t sure. But I wasn’t about to tell them that, and it was so dark that they wouldn’t be able to tell I was lying. 

“I’m fine,” I answered.

“You’re shivering.” Sam’s voice rang with disapproval. I needed to work on my lying skills.

“Hold on.” I heard Dean grunt in effort, then I could barely make out a figure shuffling around in the dark.

“Ow,” muttered Dean. He kicked at the object he had just tripped over. “What is this?”

“My leg.” I couldn’t tell if Sam’s voice held more pain or annoyance.

“Sorry.” Dean kept moving, feeling his way in the dark. A moment later he dropped inelegantly to his knees next to me, then inched closer until he was pressed against my other side. Sandwiched between the two boys, I was still cold, but slightly less so.

“Lucy, you’re covered in ice.” Dean pressed himself even closer to me, and a moment later so did Sam.

We were silent for a moment, then Sam spoke again.

“There was someone else down here,” he whispered. “A girl. She told us they took her from the city. An hour or so ago one of them came down and dragged her upstairs.”

I couldn’t help but glance upwards. Sam had left his statement open ended, and I knew there was more. 

“And then?” I asked.

“And then they killed her,” Dean answered roughly. “We heard her scream, and then it was quiet.”

I shuddered, and thinking I was cold, the boys shifted ever closer. I gasped for breath. 

“Can’t-breathe.”

They withdrew slightly, just enough that I could breathe regularly again, but still were pressed firmly to my sides.

“So,” I started. “Do either of you have a plan?”

Dean grunted.

“No,” Sam responded. “We’re playing it by the moment.”

“Great.” I shifted into a slightly more comfortable positon, then winced as something hard poked into my rear end. “What the hell am I sitting on?”

“Who knows,” Sam grumbled. 

I shifted so that I could run my bound hands on the floor beneath me. There was nothing.

“Wait!” Realization ran through me, and I crammed my hands into my back pocket. “Almost, almost, got it!”

“Got what?” Dean’s voice was curious but cautioned.

I laughed as hope shot up my spine. “My pocket knife. Haha!”

“Give it to me,” Dean commanded. 

I snorted as I snapped the blade carefully open.

“No way. I’m not taking the chance we drop it. In the dark it’ll take hours to find.” I turned the blade in my hands, slowly wedging it up and in between my hands. Then I pushed it against the rope tied around my wrists and began to saw.

“Be careful,” Sam warned. 

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see.

“There.” I smiled in triumph as the cords snapped. Struggling to my knees, I rolled my shoulders. “Who’s next?”

“Sam,” Dean ordered. 

I nodded, quickly sawing away the ropes that bound his little brother, then turned to Dean. Within a two minutes he was standing, then moving around the room.

“Look for something we can use,” he instructed us. 

“What?” I asked. “They’ve probably tossed anything silver by now.”

“And we won’t be able to tell if it’s actually silver in the dark,” Sam added.

“I know silver is the supposed to be the only thing that can kill werewolves,” I asked, “but is there any other way it can be done?”

“Do you have a wood chipper on hand?” asked Dean.

I smiled softly as I recognized the reference. All the same, I was forced to reply with a “no.” 

A moment later I heard thumping from above us. “Guys, do you hear…”

“Yeah.” Dean backed up quickly. “We can’t take them like this.” 

I knew he was referring to me. “I held out well enough first round,” I shot at him. “I lasted longer than you two did.”

“You also fell in a lake,” Sam pointed out. “You’re not exactly fit to do anything other than curl up with a hot chocolate.”

I rolled my eyes. “Feel free to make me some when we get out of here.” I glanced up as footsteps came from just outside the door. “Get ready.”

The door opened, and Dean immediately charged whoever was coming in. The two fell to the floor with a grunt, and Sam and I rushed forward to help. Dean was straddling the shaggy haired man beneath him, punching him repeatedly in the face. As Dean pulled his hand away for another hit the wolf’s head lolled limply, and Sam jumped forward and grabbed his brother’s arm.

“Dean, enough!” Sam winced as Dean strained against him, and he pulled Dean’s arms back and pinned them against his own chest. Dean tried to jerk free, then suddenly stopped, sagging against his brother. 

I watched him squeeze his eyes shut, panting. He stayed like that for a good minute, visibly fighting to regain control of himself. Finally he opened his eyes again. When he gently tugged on Sam’s grip on his arms, Sam let go.

When Dean glanced over to me, there was guilt and a little bit of fear in his eyes. At the look on my face his face paled, and I realized what my expression must be. 

“Lucy…” Dean stood and stepped closer, and I involuntarily shifted away, my arms drawing ever so slightly in front of my torso. Dean froze, and something flashed across his face. 

“It’s ok.” I fought to recompose my face, though my voice was still shaky. “I’m fine.” I looked up and down Dean. He was dirty, with blood caking the side of his face and his knuckles. I quickly looked away from his knuckles, where the skin was peeling off. Dean, seeing my look, dropped his hands to his sides, where they were less obvious.

I steeled myself. “What’s the plan?” I asked. I glanced down at the unconscious werewolf at our feet. 

Slowly, Sam and Dean followed my gaze.

Dean looked up at me almost guiltily. “I’m going to need your pocket knife.”

I held it out, even as a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. “What are you going to do?” I whispered.

“We’re going to take him hostage.” Dean flicked out the blade. “All these goons look a lot alike. I bet they’re family.” He dragged the wolf up and onto his knees. “They’ll fold like a pile of cards.”

“Yeah, ok.” Sam didn’t seem nearly as upset with the idea as I felt. “Except for one problem. That’s not silver.” He pointed to my pocket knife. 

“Yeah,” Dean admitted. “But they won’t know that. Help me out here.” Together, he and Sam began to drag the wolf towards the stairs that led to the main floor of the house. I shook myself; this was what hunting meant. And what difference did it matter if we used the werewolf as bait. He was going to die anyway. We’d come here to kill him.

So, with a dark feeling in my heart, I followed Sam and Dean as they dragged the werewolf up the stairs. At the top of the stairs was another door. This I knew would lead to the cabin we were trapped in. Sam flung the door open, and we rushed through.

“Right then,” Sam shouted. “Everybody just stop what you’re doing.”

I looked around us. There were four wolves in the room we’d just entered. One of which, the one I’d stabbed, was lying on the couch in the center of the room, unconscious. He had a gauze pad taped over his left eye, and he moaned in his sleep. The other two males were standing nearby, one young enough to be a teenager, the other older; their father I guessed. And there was a woman.

She hovered over the side of the unconscious boy, her face caught between anger and worry. As we burst into the room she whirled, and fury transformed her face into a snarl. I realized she must be the mother of this particular litter. She’d stayed behind to guard the other prisoner, the one that Sam and Dean had conversed briefly with.

“Jake!” The boy leaning against the wall, who was about the same age as the one we held prisoner, rushed forward, but a quick jerk of my knife by Dean under his brother’s chin stopped him. 

“One more step and I slit his throat,” Dean warned. 

The wolf growled, but halted. To my surprise however, his mother stepped forward.

“No you won’t,” she stated. She smiled slowly, with a grin that would have been lovely if it didn’t hold such maliciousness behind it. 

Dean’s eyebrow raised. “And why is that?” he asked.

The woman took another step closer. “Because then you’d have no leverage,” she said. “He’s your only chance at getting out of here alive. And you know it.”

Dean snorted. “Lady, I don’t need him for a damn thing. This is just a bit neater. I can get out of here with or without him.”

“Then why haven’t you?” She edged closer still, and I gulped. Sam and Dean didn’t seem to be noticing her movements. How thick headed were they? Meanwhile, the werewolf was smiling softly again. “I bet she’s the answer.” She jerked her head towards me.

Dean stiffened, and Sam automatically moved so that he was blocking me from sight with his large frame. 

The wolf continued. “Maybe you could fight out of here before, but not with her around. She’s not trained, is she? She’s not a hunter. She’ll get you killed. And she’ll still die.” The wolf laughed, and Dean’s fingers clenched around the pocket knife until they turned white. I needed to do something, and fast.

“Yeah?” I stepped forward, ignoring Sam’s attempts to draw me behind him again, and faced the woman in front of me. “Well this untrained hunter is the one who took out your son’s eye and dumped him in the lake.” I gave her a smile that was anything but sweet, and her eyes narrowed.

I didn’t see her fist coming until it was too late. She clocked me on the side of the head, and I gasped in pain, stumbling. Sam jumped forward, but she was already pulling me back, within the safety of the two other wolves that had gathered around her.

“Now then,” she said. “How about a trade. Her life for my son’s.” Her hands tightened around my throat, until I was gasping for air. I tried to kick out, but the two other wolves stepped forward and grabbed my arms, pinning me in place. I jerked back and forth, but it was no use. 

Dean began to lower the knife. 

“Don’t,” I choked. As soon as her son was out of danger, she would kill me. There was no point in them giving up the one advantage they had. 

Dean ignored my words though, taking my pocket knife off the young man’s throat.

“Lucy first,” he commanded. Behind me the werewolf laughed.

“Lucy is it?” she asked. “Such a pretty name. I always wanted a daughter.” One of her hands came up to run through my hair, and I shuddered in disgust. What was wrong with this lady? She was not right in the head.

_Gee what tipped you off?_ I asked myself. _Was it the whole eating people thing?_

“But you see, you’re outnumbered,” the wolf continued. “We have the upper hand, and so all the power. Now drop my boy.”

Dean ground his teeth. He then seemed to come to a conclusion, because something flashed in his eyes. Sam seemed to notice some change in his brother’s demeanor, because he glanced over to him. Whatever he saw in his brother’s face caused his eyes to widen slightly, but he simply nodded. Whatever it was, he was ready.

“Alright,” Dean agreed. “I’ll drop him.” 

He plunged my knife into the werewolf’s chest.

“No!” All three wolves released me as they rushed forward, and I seized my opportunity. I stumbled backwards, scanning around me for something I could use. I found our knives on the dining room table, only feet away. The only thing between me and them was a couch containing an unconscious werewolf.

The couch wasn’t much trouble. The kid was out cold. I jumped quickly over it, then rushed towards the table. Just before I reached it however, I was grabbed from behind and thrown into the wall. I grunted in pain as I collided with the solid wood, stumbling back and whirling.

The mother of the little pack stood across from me, snarling savagely. She had thought at the last minute to grab for me again, and had followed me across the room.

She leapt forward, and I ducked under her arms and bolted for the table. Again she grabbed me, delivering a punch to my stomach that doubled me over. Another punch, this one to my face, knocked me over. 

I groaned, pushing myself up weakly on my elbows. As I rose her foot flashed out, catching me under my chin. As I landed on my back again her foot connected with my rib cage, and I cried out.

After her foot slammed into my side twice more I knew that was where she’d kick yet again and reached out, somehow managing to grab her foot. Yanking it forward, I made her lose her balance, and she crashed to the floor beside me.

I scrambled up, crawling on hands and knees towards the table, my side burning. I yelped as she grabbed my ankle and pulled me back towards her, then I kicked out. My foot connected with her jaw, and with an oomph she let go.

I used the table to pull myself up, grabbing one of the daggers and turning. The wolf was rushing at me, and I instinctively stabbed, driving the knife in between her ribs.   
She screamed. Pulling away, she fell to the floor, the wound I’d inflicted sizzling with the burn of silver. Within moments she was still. 

I gulped, my hands trembling. I had killed her. I looked down at myself, at my blood covered hands, and felt sick. I had killed her.

“Mom!” 

I glanced up as the two wolves broke off their fights with Sam and Dean and rushed forward. Quickly, I grabbed the two other daggers off the table and slid them across the floor, past the two werewolves that were thundering into the room. While the young man fell to his knees beside his mother, the father glared at me.

“You.” His address was spat like a curse word, sending shivers down my spine. 

I gulped and backed up so that I was pressed against the table, panic taking over. The wolf barely made it two steps forward though before he froze, his eyes widening. Then he collapsed to the floor, revealing Dean standing behind him.

“Are you alright?” he asked. 

I gulped and nodded, glancing around. Sam was coming up behind the unsuspecting teenager, and as I watched he grabbed him by the hair, yanked his head back, and slit his throat. I looked away as he collapsed over his mother’s body, gurgling and jerking.

“Lucy.” Sam rushed forward, grabbing me in a hug, and I buried my face in his shirt. When he pulled away Dean seized me as well, then pulled off his leather jacket and slung it over my shoulders. A moment later Sam added his scarf.

“Let’s go,” he said. I nodded and allowed them to lead me out, pretending not to notice how they stopped to slit the throats of the two unconscious werewolves. I was exhausted, confused, and in pain. Not exactly in the best frame of mind to linger around a cabin where I’d just helped to take out said family of werewolves.

The walk back to the car didn’t seem to take as long as the last time, but maybe that was because I was in shock. I didn’t pay attention as the boys steered me towards the impala, tucking me into the front passenger seat with blankets. Dean revved the engine and turned on the heat, and Sam settled into the back seat.

We were silent going back to the motel. There I sat, even once Sam and Dean climbed out of the car. Sam opened my door and stuck his head in.

“Lucy?” he asked. “You coming?”

I nodded mutely, unbuckling my seat belt with wooden movements. As I stepped out of the car Sam wrapped his arm around me and rubbed my arm with his hand. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to warm me up or comfort me.

They left me in my room, heading to their own to get washed up. I looked at myself in the mirror in the little bathroom. The side of my face was caked in blood, my makeup smeared around my eyes from my dip in the lake. My hands were also stained in blood, but I knew it wasn’t mine. I shuddered and washed it off in the sink.

I needed a shower. Not only did I need to get the rest of the blood, and the dirt, and whatever was in that lake- no I did not want to think about what was in that lake- off me, but I needed to warm up. Though ice was no longer clinging to my hair and clothes, my nose was turning that nice reddish color that only occurs when you’re getting a cold, and I was still chilled to the bone. I needed a hot shower and a pile of blankets before I got sick.

I unbuttoned my shirt, letting it slip to the floor. Then I grasped the bottom edge of my tank top and pulled up- and gasped in pain.

It felt like someone had kicked me in the chest. Well, that was because someone had. I probed gently at my ribcage, wincing as I fully registered what I hadn’t before. I needed to get a look at it. I tried to pull off my tank top again, but once more was forced to give up with a small cry of pain.

“Sam? Dean?” I shivered in the cold air outside the motel, wearing nothing but my tank top. I pulled out the spare key to their room that they’d given me, then paused. What if they weren’t dressed? I did not want to see that.

I knocked. “Guys,” I called. “It’s me. Open up.”

A moment later Sam opened the door. His eyes focused on my bare arms, and he frowned as he drew me into the room. “What are you doing outside without a jacket?” he asked. “Are you trying to get sick?”

I rolled my eyes. “I think I have bigger problems,” I stated dryly.

Sam’s eyebrows rose as I took a seat on one of the beds, wincing slightly.

Sam caught the wince. “What’s wrong?” he asked. He moved to the bathroom, pounding on the door. “Dean, get out here,” he shouted.

He stared at me in silent worry until Dean emerged, wrapped in a towel and a scowl. I looked away from him, sincerely hoping that the towel wouldn’t slip.

“What’s going on?” Dean’s eyes were moving back and forth between the two of us, water dripping into them. 

I winced in embarrassment and shifted on the bed. 

“There’s something wrong with my chest,” I told them. “I can’t get my shirt off.”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he took a step forward. Then he glanced down at himself, cursed, and disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. When he emerged a second later he was wearing his dirty jeans, though his chest was still bare. 

“May I?” he asked. He gestured to my shirt, and I nodded reluctantly. He started to pull it up, freezing when I yelped in pain. Sam quickly joined him, and within a few minutes they had gently tugged my shirt up and over my head, leaving me in just my bra.

“That’s not good,” Sam commented. I looked down, wincing at what I saw. A dark bruise was spreading across my chest, blue and purple.

“Why didn’t you tell us your chest was hurting earlier?” asked Dean.

I shrugged, then instantly regretted it. “I didn’t notice until a few minutes ago,” I defended myself. 

Suddenly a seizure of coughing overtook me, and I doubled over. Pain fired through me with each jerking movement, and when I had finally stopped coughing I was gasping in pain, tears filling my eyes. 

“Lucy?” 

I groaned as I straightened again slowly. When I looked down at the arm I’d just coughed into, I was frightened to see blood spattered on it. My eyes wide, I locked eyes with Sam and Dean, who both uttered curses.

They settled me back in bed, draping a blanket over me for both modesty and warmth. Dean pulled out his phone, hitting the speed dial button.

“Cas, it’s Dean,” he stated. “We’re in the Freemont motel in Huntington, Pennsylvania. Get here now. Lucy’s hurt.”

“What happened?” 

I spun as Cas spoke from in between the two beds, then cried out softly as my motion caused the pain in my ribs to flare. Cas turned to face me, blue eyes locking on my hand as it automatically came up to my chest.

“Werewolf,” I growled through gritted teeth. 

Cas frowned and stepped forward, and I allowed him to pull down the blanket that covered me. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly as they took in the still spreading bruise, then they flashed over to the blood on my arm.

Immediately he placed his hand on my chest, just below my bra. I ignored the way my cheeks flamed, bracing myself for what I knew was coming next. All the same I yowled as another flare of pain shot through me, curling in on myself.

Cas’s hand came up to brace my back, and after a moment I nodded that he could release me. He stepped back, and I pulled the blanket over me. No one needed to see my chest anymore.

“Thanks,” I said with a small smile. 

Cas nodded, watching me silently.

“You had two broken ribs,” he said disapprovingly. “They were causing internal bleeding. And there was fluid building up in your lungs. I don’t think that was from a werewolf,” he commented dryly.

I bit my lip. “No,” I admitted. “That was from a lake.”

Cas’s eyes widened. “It’s the middle of winter!” he exclaimed. “What were you doing in a lake?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like I decided to go for a swim,” I admonished. “I fell in when I was fighting a werewolf.”

Cas frowned. “So he kicked you in the ribs and pulled you into a lake?”

“No, no,” I corrected him. “I shot the ice to put him in the lake but he dragged me with him. Then I stabbed him in the eye and his mother kicked me in the ribs for it.”

Cas now had a slightly pained expression on his face, which Sam and Dean seemed to be enjoying very much. I couldn’t blame them. If I wasn’t starting to get slightly afraid that the angel was about to endow me with a very long lecture I would have been laughing too. What was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly so protective of me?

I was about to ask just that when Cas grabbed my arm. We appeared in my room a minute later, and he thrust me towards the bathroom. 

“Shower. Now,” he ordered. 

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes mother.”

I put the water on hot, still in the process of thawing after my swim that day, even if Cas had prevented me from coming down with pneumonia. Cas left a change of clothes for me in the bathroom, and I quickly pulled them on once I was clean. 

The angel in question was sitting on my bed with a mug of hot chocolate. As I appeared he stood, thrusting the mug into my hands, then guided me to the bed and proceeded to bury me in blankets. 

“Hold up,” I ordered. 

Cas paused, another blanket in his hands, frowning as I pulled off a few of the layers that he’d draped over me. 

“Enough with the blankets. I’m burning up here. And where’d you get hot chocolate?”

Cas took the blankets I handed him and set them on the other bed. “I bought milk and chocolate powder at a store,” he informed me. “Dean said I had to microwave it.”

I nodded. “Thanks,” I said, giving him a smile. “But, can I just ask, why the sudden overprotectiveness?” 

Cas shrugged. It was an odd gesture for him, and I narrowed my eyes.

“I worry about you three,” he admitted. 

Again, my eyebrows rose.

“Funny, I don’t see you mothering over Sam or Dean.” I leaned back against the pillows, watching Cas’s face. He fought to keep it passive, but I could see the gears turning in his head.

I laughed softly at his expression and patted the bed next to me. The poor angel needed a break. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d probably just saved my life. I could go easy on him- for now. 

Cas climbed up next to me, and I snuggled against him, balancing my hot chocolate in my lap. 

“Since you seem intent on being useful,” I told him. “You can be my pillow.”

Ok, maybe that was a bit mean, but as Cas shifted to allow me to settle into a more comfortable position on his chest, I really didn’t care.


	16. Haunting People Is Not Nice

“Ok, so what’s the plan?”

I looked back and forth between Sam and Dean, waiting for one of them to respond. We were in Minnesota, working a case that involved a series of hauntings. People throughout town had been seeing ghosts all over the place; the spirits of loved ones or past inhabitants of their houses. There was no pattern as to who appeared or to whom. 

But the most striking thing about the case was how many ghosts there were. We’d gone throughout town and taken a survey, and concluded that over a dozen ghosts had been seen. Assuming no one had made up anything, we were dealing with a lot of graves to dig up. Some of them, like one woman’s dead dog, were going to be difficult. We were going to need to sneak into her backyard during the night.

But the question still remained; why were all these ghosts suddenly acting up? All at once, and all right here in this one town? It seemed like someone was playing around with magic and had brought a bunch of spirits back from beyond the grave. 

Normally, we’d focus on the idiot bringing the ghosts to life. Once we’d taken care of him the ghosts would all go back to where they belonged. But the previous night someone had died as a result of the hauntings. A woman living alone in an old house; something that had appeared to her had caused her to trip and fall down the stairs. We no longer had time to look for the witch bringing the ghosts to life. We had to stop the ghosts first, before they could drop anymore bodies.

Sam looked up from where he was bent over a map. “The majority of the graves are in the cemetery,” he said. “Then there’s just the one dog.” He frowned and studied the map again.

“We can’t burn the dog in the yard,” Dean pointed out. “The whole block would see. We’ll have to bring it somewhere else, then burn it.”

Sam nodded. “I’ll start at the graveyard, and you two get the dog and meet me there?” he asked.

I nodded. “Sounds good.” I glanced over to Dean. “You can carry the dog.”

Dean chuckled, but didn’t object. Grabbing his coat, he tossed me the keys to the impala.

“Seriously?” I asked. 

Dean nodded. “You need the practice,” he stated. 

I nodded and grinned, then bolted for the door before he could change his mind.

The streets were already dark as I guided the impala through them, Sam doling out instructions to the cemetery. There he unloaded a shovel and several gallons of gas, as well as a plastic bag filled with salt containers. As soon as the trunk of the car was shut I hit the gas, pulling smoothly out onto the road again. Ten minutes later we were climbing a rickety metal fence into the back yard that housed the remains of the dead dog.

Even though it was now spring, the night air was still cold enough to warrant a jacket. I zipped mine up as Dean handed me a flashlight, and we carefully made our way to where the dog was buried. When the boys had come to interview the owner of the house the other day they had been sure to mark the exact location of the dog. 

Dean made quick work of the spot, and soon was prying open the lid of a dog sized coffin. I held up a hand to stop him.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to keep the dog in the box for now?” I asked.

Dean thought for a moment, then nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Give me a hand here.” 

I reached down to grab the edge of the coffin as he thrust it at me, then promptly dropped it as a scream echoed from inside the house.

Dean cursed and climbed out of the hole. “Stay here,” he ordered.

I rolled my eyes and followed at a sprint, already pulling out my rock salt packed gun.

A young woman was backed up against the living room wall, still screaming her head off at the dog standing before her. The dog, which had been a golden retriever, stood calmly watching his owner, tail wagging softly. He seemed oblivious to the distress of the woman.

“Hey, Fido!” 

At Dean’s shout the dog spun, teeth bared. A moment later it got a mouth full of rock salt, and stumbled back with a yelp. 

“Mommy?” 

Everyone in the room whirled at the small voice coming from upstairs, and a horrified look came over the woman’s face as a small shadow appeared on the wall.

“Derek, go back to bed,” she called, her voice shaking. She screamed again as Dean fired off several more rock salt rounds and then gave chase as the dog bolted into the next room. I followed, but by the time Dean and I had followed the dog outside it had vanished.

“Dammit.” Dean shoved the gun back into the back of his jeans, turning back to me. “I told you to stay out here,” he commented angrily.

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? That’s what you’re focusing on?” I turned away, then frowned as I spotted something dark on the grass by the door. 

“What’s this?” I touched the sticky liquid with my fingers, then pulled my hand back abruptly. “Dean, did you get hurt?”

Dean frowned. “No, why?”

I pulled my hand up to look at the substance on it again. “This is blood.” I looked down at myself; I wasn’t bleeding either. “Is this the ghost’s?”

Dean knelt next to me to inspect the small droplets on the grass. “Ghosts don’t bleed,” he reminded me.

“What’s going on here? Who are you?”

We looked up as the woman appeared in her doorway, a carving knife grasped in a trembling hand. Behind her a young boy peeked out at us, blue eyes wide. She pushed him back behind her with her free hand.

Dean cursed. “Call Sam,” he told me quietly. “Tell him to stop digging and steal a car to get back to the room. I’ll explain things to these two.”

I nodded, whipping out my cell phone and hitting two on the speed dial. A minute later Sam answered, out of breath from digging graves.

“Stop what you’re doing,” I told him. “Head back to the motel. We’ve got a problem.”

“What?” Sam’s voice took on a concerned edge. “Are you two alright?”

“Yeah.” I quickly explained what had happened, and Sam agreed to meet us at the motel. I reentered the house just as Dean finished concocting some lie to the terrified mother inside.

She still held the butcher’s knife, but it was more relaxed in her grip. Her son, I noticed, had been sat down with a coloring book near the front door, where he could run outside if Dean tried anything. He wasn’t paying any attention to the crayons clutched in his hand though, staring wide eyed at Dean.

“Momma,” he called. “Is Jesse coming back?” He looked towards the fireplace, where in front of the hearth a dog bed still sat, a red rubber bone tucked in the corner. The dog must not have been dead for long. I felt tears in my eyes as hope filled Derek’s face. 

“No, baby.” His mother knelt down in front of him, setting her knife on the coffee table. Apparently she’d decided that Dean and I weren’t a danger to her son. “I told you, Jesse had to go away.”

Dean tugged at my arm gently, and I followed him back outside. Before we left I made him fill in the hole we’d dug in the family’s yard. It seemed wrong to leave it there.  
We got back to the hotel before Sam, and Dean immediately sat down with their dad’s old journal. When Sam arrived a half hour later he looked none too pleased, but settled down next to his brother.

“What are we dealing with here?” he asked. 

Dean shrugged, still flipping through the old pages. I glanced over from the computer and frowned.

“Hold on,” I stated. “I’ve got an idea.” Shutting the computer, I sat up and faced the brothers expectantly. “What if it’s a shape shifter?”

“A shape shifter?” Sam pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “We haven’t found any skins,” he objected.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean much,” Dean pointed out. “They could just be shifting somewhere else.” He glanced at the gun he’d tossed on the bed. “Ghosts don’t bleed,” he added. “But a gun, even a rock salt one, would effect a shifter.”

“Yeah, but it’ll have healed by now,” Sam pointed out. “All we’ve done is make it angry.”

“Actually them,” I stated. I rolled my eyes at the confused looks Sam and Dean gave me. “Several of these hauntings happened at the exact same time, or close enough in time but too far apart in distance between them that there has to be more than one.” I glanced down at my notes on the case. “I’d say there’re at least four.”

“Great.” Dean stood and moved to fridge for a beer. “We gotta find where they’re holing up,” he stated.

“Ok, but how?” Sam ran hand through his way too long hair. “What’s the pattern?”

I made a face. “The question of the hour,” I commented dryly. 

“What if we don’t need to figure out the pattern?” asked Dean. He grabbed the map that we’d been using and spread it out over the table. “Hand me a pen,” he called out.

Sam and I watched as he began to connect the red dots we’d drawn on the map to indicate the locations of hauntings, and found for the most part that a circle formed.

“Give me the pen,” I ordered. I retraced the circle, leaving out a few outlying dots, and ended up with a neat little sphere encompassing a neighborhood of the town. “Who lives there?” I asked.

We spent the rest of the night researching the neighborhood. It housed the wealthy folk of the town; lawyers, bankers, and a couple of doctors. None of them seemed the type to sneak around at night pretending to be someone’s dead dog.

“What about the kids?” asked Sam. “I could see a bunch of high school jocks pulling something like this.”

Dean nodded. “Possibly,” he stated. “Tomorrow’s Wednesday; they’ll be in school. We’ll sneak into their houses, see if we can find anything.” He sighed and looked over to me. “You think you can get into the school?” he asked.

I nodded. “What do you need?”

“Keep an eye on them,” Sam told me. “Try and listen in on what they’re talking about, if they’re all together. And touch one of them with this.” He pulled out a small silver knife and handed it to me. “Be subtle though.”

I nodded and stuck the knife in my pocket. Of course I’d be subtle. What did he expect me to do, walk up to some kid in the hallway and stab him?

I stayed awake a while longer, doing some research on the teenagers in the neighborhood. One group of friends in particular caught my eye, a small entourage of boys in their senior year. They were a rowdy bunch. I had Sam hack their school records and found that they’d been caught skipping classes and cheating on exams multiple times.  
However, they were surprisingly tame outside of school. Despite the parties they held at their houses whenever their parents were out of town, they had never been arrested. 

Sam shrugged when I told him this. “Maybe they’re just not that bad,” he suggested. 

I eyed him incredulously. “I don’t think so,” I stated. “I think they just never get caught.” I pulled up a drug bust from a few weeks ago. A high school student had been identified by police officers as the school nerd, seen talking with a drug dealer. He’d run off before they could question him though. The next day they had pulled him down to the station for questioning, and had been thoroughly confused when his alibi had checked out.

“Somehow,” I said, pointing to the asthma riddled, scrawny seventeen year old whose picture was on the screen, “I don’t see him buying drugs and then outrunning a bunch of cops.”

“You gotta admit that’s clever,” Dean stated. He shrugged as I glared at him. “What? Just because it’s wrong, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate their genius. The world’s best disguise.”

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I wondered if I was the only mature one out of the three of us.

* * * *

The next day Sam and Dean dropped me off at the school, and I snuck inside as the buses unloaded. I had the schedules of the group of five boys in my pocket, and I found a bathroom close to where three of them had their first class to hide in.

I spent the majority of the first half of the day crouched in bathroom stalls, emerging each time the bell rang to follow the boys through the halls. They seemed completely normal, joking about the same stuff as all other boys. I sighed as I emerged from a bathroom to follow them to the lunch room. I was going to need to use the knife.

I paused just inside the cafeteria, trying to figure out how to subtly tap one of them with a silver knife, and scanned around the room, alert for someone who realized I didn’t belong. I frowned as I spotted a girl moving around the cafeteria with a handheld video camera, and I hid behind a vending machine as I watched her. Although she made sure to make her way around the room, she always ended up turning back to the group of boys I was tailing.

I approached her from behind, not wanting my face on the camera. “What are you doing?” I asked, tapping her on the shoulder.

She whirled, and I grimaced as the camera was pointed at my face. So much for staying off screen.

“I’m taking film,” she explained, lowering the camera. “I’m with the club that makes the freshmen orientation video each year, and we need some shots of the cafeteria.”

I nodded, remembering my own freshmen orientation. I had sat with my dad in the auditorium to listen to the principal give a sappy welcome speech, followed by an equally sappy video about how high school was going to be just fantastic. 

I gestured to the boys that were crowding a small, round table, downing bags of chips and the school’s grease filled pizza. “Any reason you keep turning the camera back to them?” I asked.

The girl shrugged, a blush taking over her face. I chuckled and nodded. 

“Which one do you like?” I asked. Her blush deepened, but she pointed to a blonde haired teenager who was currently chugging a bottle of water. “Jake Spinelli,” she answered. “He’s the captain of the soccer team.” 

I laughed at the dreamy look that came over her face. “Did you get any good shots?” I asked.

The girl frowned. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I mean, I’ve got some good angles, but the lighting always does something weird to their eyes.”

I forced my mouth into a frown, ignoring the excitement that rose up in me. “Let me see,” I offered.

The girl frowned, but handed me the camera. “What’s your name?” she asked.

I used the same name I’d gone with the last time I’d snuck into a school. “Martha,” I said. “What about you?”

“I’m Mary.” Mary fast forwarded through the tape to the first of the shots, then shifted so that I could see the screen. I inspected the eyes of the group of boys, recognizing the retinal flare that identified them as shape shifters.

I kept up my pretense though, whistling softly under my breath. “That’s interesting,” I commented. “Are they all like that?”

Mary nodded and showed me several more shots. Each displayed the retinal flare. As the cafeteria started to file out at the end of the lunch period I sent her a small smile. 

“Good luck with the filming,” I told her. I paused. Should I warn her away from her boy crush? I decided not to. If he was really a danger, he would be dead by the end of the night. I slipped out of the cafeteria behind the group of boys.

They seemed to have other ideas than going to their next class. I followed them as they slipped out a back entrance to the school, mentally applauding the administration’s stellar job of keeping track of its students. The boys started through the football field, and I cursed as I heard them talk about heading to Jake’s house.

I texted Sam and Dean quickly, ducking behind the bleachers to do so. When I peeked out again, the boys were gone. I frowned. Where were they?

“Why are you following us?”

I spun to see one of them- Jake Spinelli- standing just behind me. His friends were arranged in a group just behind him, and I quickly noted that he seemed to be the head of this group.

“I’m not,” I gulped. I automatically stepped back, my right hand coming up to hover over my back pocket where the silver knife was.

Jake grinned. “You skipping too?”

I shrugged, deciding to play along. “Maybe.”

One of the other shifters spoke up. “I don’t remember seeing you around,” he stated. “Are you new?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I told them. “I’m Martha.”

“I’m Jake.” The lead shifter gestured to himself, then back to his buddies. “This is Tony, Steve, Henry, and Noah.”

I waved. “Hi,” I called.

Each of the boys returned variations of hi. I couldn’t help but notice that they seemed less than pleased by my appearance.

Jake, however, didn’t seem to mind. “Why don’t you hang with us?” he offered. I blinked in surprise, as did the other four boys. Now they looked annoyed.

“I don’t think so,” I said. I sent him a small smile. “See yah around.”

I turned and started walking away, ignoring the buzz of my phone in my pocket. From behind me I could hear the angry muttering of the boys to Jake, and then he called out, “wait!”

I stopped and turned to see him jogging up behind me, a wide grin spread across his face. “Come on,” he pleaded. “We’re cool.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think your friends want me to join you,” I pointed out.

Jake shrugged. “They can deal. Just for a little while,” he compromised. 

I sighed. It would help the case for me to get closer with them. “Fine,” I agreed reluctantly. I pulled out my phone. “Let me just tell my friends that I’ll be late meeting up with them.”

Jake nodded and stepped back while I looked at Dean’s message. It told me to meet him and Sam on the road behind the school so they could pick me up. I sent back an update on what I was doing and flipped the phone shut, sighing in anticipation of the lecture I was sure to get later.

I followed the boys through the streets and back towards their houses, Jake slinging his arm over my shoulder as we walked. He seemed to have decided that since I was new in town it was his duty to point out all of its attractions as we passed them. I plastered a mildly interested expression on my face, ignoring the furious buzzing of my phone in my pocket.

“Home sweet home.” Jake unlocked the door to his house, stepping to the side to allow the rest of us in. His friends filed past sullenly, still upset about my presence, and I glanced around before I entered. Just down the street I could make out the impala as it parked, Sam and Dean doing their best not to make their steak out obvious. I sent them a quick nod, then allowed Jake to usher me inside.

Soon we were situated in the living room with chips and soda, and Jake sat a little too close for my comfort. I allowed it though, flirting back with him in the hopes that it would loosen his tongue.

I was still surprised when he whispered in my ear that we should go upstairs. I shook my head, giving him a small smile.

“I don’t think so,” I responded. “Nice try though.”

Jake frowned slightly, but nodded and settled back next to me. I resisted the urge to stand and move away as his arm encircled me.

Several long minutes later I glanced at the clock. “Oh, I’ve got to go,” I said, shooting off the couch. 

Jake stood, and I resisted the urge to bring my hand to the knife in my pocket.

“You’ve barely been here an hour,” he complained. 

“I have friends to meet,” I shot back. “And you said just for a little while.”

“One more hour?” asked Jake. Clearly he was still hoping to get me upstairs.

“Let her go,” Steve ordered. “We still need to talk about that thing.” His eyes flickered nervously in my direction at the mention of what was seemingly a sensitive subject.

This drew a sour expression over Jake’s face. He frowned, but nodded. 

“Let me walk you out,” he suggested. 

I nodded and followed him back through the house.

“Will I see you at school tomorrow?” he asked as he opened the front door.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe,” I supplied. 

Jake grinned, and before I knew it he had me pinned against the doorframe as he kissed me.

I shoved at him, trying to push him off, but his kiss only deepened. I kicked my knee up, catching him in the groin, and with a gasp of pain he fell away.

“Don’t do that again,” I snarled. “When someone tries to push you off them that means _no_.”

“I’m sorry.” 

I scowled at Jake’s words. Sitting there with his hand over his crotch, he sounded anything but sorry.

“Lucy!”

I spun and groaned as Dean all but flew up the driveway, Sam just behind him. Murder was in both their eyes. 

“I’m fine,” I called. “I handled it.”

Dean grunted as he reached us. “Now it’s my turn,” he commented. As Jake struggled to his feet Dean delivered a solid punch to his stomach, and Sam caught him none too gently as the shifter’s knees buckled. Dean produced a rope and bound Jake’s hands behind his back, Sam clamping a hand over the shape shifter’s mouth to quiet him. Then Sam circled around behind the house, and Dean hauled a now gagged Jake to his feet.

“I’ll go in first,” I offered. “Get them off guard.”

Dean nodded, looking unhappy. I slipped back inside, fixing a bright smile on my face as I rounded the corner into the living room.

“Hey guys,” I greeted. I headed into the kitchen, and all four boys turned towards me. “I’m gonna stay for a while longer.”

“How much longer?” Noah’s face puckered into a frown as I shrugged, ignoring Sam as he crept up to the sliding glass door at the side of the room. In my chest my heart was pounding, but I ignored it and leaned against the counter. By now I had all four boys completely focused on me. 

“Until we get some answers,” commented Dean. 

The shifters whirled to see him standing in the doorway, holding a struggling Jake in place. The boys backed away, turning towards the back door only to come to a halt as they spotted Sam’s hulking figure on the other side. As we watched, Sam calmly finished picking the lock and stepped in, producing a length of rope.

They turned to me. “What the hell?” snarled Tony. “What are you?”

“Hunters,” Dean supplied. 

The faces of all five boys paled.

“Don’t freak out too much,” I assured them. “We just want to talk.”

“Which is why you brought rope?” Henry commented. His eyes flickered to the blade Dean had pressed against Jake’s throat. “And silver knives,” he added.

I shrugged, fighting to stay nonchalant despite the pity forming in my heart at the terror on their faces. “Precautions.”

The boys continued to eye us, petrified.

“Look.” Sam let his rope fall to the floor. “We really do just want to talk. We’re not here to hurt you.” 

Henry pointed over to Jake. “Then untie him,” he ordered, his voice shaking.

Dean rolled his eyes, but did as the shape shifter requested. He shoved Jake roughly to the center of the room, where the boy glared at me, muttering something under his breath. I gritted my teeth, but let it pass.

Sam, Dean, and I stayed where we were, knowing we had the young shifters cornered in the center of the room. “Ok,” started Dean. “So, first of all, I take it you lot have been ‘haunting’ people all over town?”

“Yeah,” Jake answered. Now that he had use of his mouth again he was doing the talking, the other four boys watching his responses carefully.

I scowled at the uncaring attitude to his voice. “You do realize the extent to which you’ve been screwing with people,” I stated. “Several of them are about ready to check into mental hospitals. There’s a little boy who’s convinced his dog is going to come back to him. And let’s not get started on the woman you killed.”

At my words all five faces paled, and the shifters’ eyes became downcast.

“Actually,” Sam commented. “Let’s talk about that.” He pulled a picture from his pocket and unfolded it before tossing it on the coffee table. I barely got a glimpse of the woman lying on the mortician’s slab before Jake picked it up. He quickly handed it off to Steve, who then thrust it to Tony. From there the photo went to Noah, and then to Henry before ending up back on the table. All five boys avoided looking at it, their faces taking on a greenish tint.

“We’re sorry.” Steve’s voice wavered as he spoke. “We didn’t mean for it to go that far. We were just having a bit of fun.”

Beside him Noah nodded fervently. “We didn’t want anyone to get hurt,” he promised. 

“That’s what we were planning to talk about today,” Henry added, his gaze fixed on me. I remembered what Steve had told Jake about needing to talk when I had stood to go. “We were going to back out.”

I nodded, exchanging looks with Sam and Dean. These four, at least, seemed sorry for what they’d done. I doubted they’d do it again. Based on what I saw in Sam and Dean’s eyes, they agreed with me.

“And what about you?” Dean pointed to Jake. “Are you going to stop?”

Jake nodded, face still pale. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t kill us.”

Sam sighed. “We won’t,” he stated. 

The boys all adopted expressions of relief on their faces.

“Yet,” Dean elaborated. He took a step further into the room. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he declared. “One wrong move and we’ll be back. And we won’t be so nice next time.”

The boys nodded, eyes wide, and made a series of promises to behave themselves. We quickly backed out of the house, making our way to the impala.

“Do you think they’ll stop?” I asked.

Dean shrugged. “The majority of them?” he asked. “Yeah. Not sure about that one kid though.”

I nodded. 

“Let’s stay in town for a few days,” Sam suggested. “Just to be safe.”

We did, taking turns watching Jake’s house at night. However, with the exception of one late night store run no one came or went after dark, and there were no more hauntings reported throughout town.

After three days the boys had decided we could leave. I stopped them as they began to load the car, quickly voicing the idea that had been forming in the back of my mind. It took several minutes, but eventually they agreed.

It didn’t take long to get what we needed done. The animal shelter was in town, showing off several dogs of different breeds and ages who were sitting in their crates, enduring the curious stares of perspective owners. We bought the dog under one of the credit cards Sam and Dean had scammed, and I held the squirming puppy as we drove through the streets. 

We had also bought a crate, knowing that one would be needed for the puppy until it was house trained and could be left loose when no one was home. I left the dog in the crate on the front porch of the house we’d had the encounter with the shape shifter in several days ago, ringing the bell before running back to the impala. We’d parked at the corner, far enough away that we most likely wouldn’t be spotted, but close enough that we could see what happened.

The woman who owned the house answered the door in her robe, scanning around nervously. Derek peeked around her leg in his Spiderman pajamas, his eyes immediately finding the crate I’d left there. His shout of glee filled the air, and ignoring his mother’s order to let her open the crate, he quickly pulled out the puppy. The furry little bundle squirmed in his arms, and he giggled as he clung to it with small hands.

His mother seemed at a loss for words. She scanned around one last time, then ushered her son and their new puppy inside the house and dragged in the crate, a teary eyed smile on her face. As the door closed behind her I heard her son laugh as he rolled around with his new puppy, and I smiled smugly.

“You see,” I told the boys. “Worth every penny.”

They grumbled in response, but as Dean put the impala into gear I noticed that they both had soft expressions on their faces.


	17. The Things We Can't Forget

“Lucy, come here a minute.”

I raised an eyebrow, but did as Dean asked. He was lingering inside the motel room he and Sam had shared over the past few days, taking his time slinging his old leather jacket over his shoulders. Sam was outside loading our bags into the car, oblivious to Dean calling me inside.

“What is it?” I asked. My eyebrow only rose further when Dean glanced outside to make sure Sam wasn’t within earshot.

“Sam’s birthday is coming up,” he whispered. “May second. We should do something.”

I nodded, a small smile forming. “I didn’t realize that was his birthday,” I replied.

“Really? Your show didn’t mention that?” Dean looked at me skeptically, and I shrugged. 

“Not that I remember, though I probably could have found it online if I’d looked.” I turned as well to make sure Sam wasn’t listening, then faced Dean again. “So, what are we going to do?”

Dean grinned and began to outline a plan, and I nodded as I listened.

“Are you guys coming?” Sam stuck his head through the door, and Dean and I both attempted to hide our smiles.

“Yeah, one minute,” Dean called. As Sam pulled his head out of the room Dean let out a short laugh. “That was close.”

I snorted. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Ok, but there’s one problem with your plan. We’ll need to get Sam out of the bunker long enough to set up.”

Dean pursed his lips. “True,” he muttered. He frowned. “Give me a day or two; I’ll think of something.”

I nodded. “Let’s go then,” I told him. “Before Sam gets suspicious.”

When we got to the car Sam was waiting impatiently in the passenger seat, and he sent us a scowl as we climbed in the impala. “You ready?” he asked.

“Yep.” Dean pulled out of the parking lot. “Let’s head back to the bunker for a few days,” he suggested.

I nodded from the backseat. “I’m up for that.”

“Why not.” Sam began to rifle through the stash of cassette tapes that Dean insisted on. “What are we listening to today?”

As the two began to bicker over what tape to play I settled back with a small smile. I was happy that Dean was showing such an interest in his brother’s birthday. I was sure Dean always managed a ‘happy birthday,’ maybe a cake when they could, but I doubted Sam had gotten a party since he was a kid. Dean’s insistence on throwing a surprise party for his little brother showed that he losing that hardened, obsessed with killing things edge that he’d borne for so long. I thought back to my resolution not long after I’d first met the three Winchesters, my silent promise to save them each from themselves. It looked like I was a third of the way there.

* * * *

We had been gone from the bunker for over a month. Which meant that the first thing we had to do when we got home was clean out the food. I grimaced as I opened the fridge. This wasn’t going to be fun.

Over an hour and two garbage bags later, we had cleaned out all the rotten food. Much of it had been turning green, or had been in various stages of mushiness. Dean and I ran to the store to get some more food, picking up decorations while we were there. 

“Ok,” I said, grabbing a box of chocolate cake powder off a shelf. “I’m going to need time to cook this,” I pointed out. “And then it’s gotta cool before I can put the frosting on it.” As I spoke I grabbed a carton of frosting.

Dean frowned. “I’ve got a plan that’ll get him out of the bunker for an hour or two on his birthday, but I don’t know how we can buy enough time to make a cake. Don’t they take a while to cool? And you’d have to get the icing on and the decorations up too. Do you even think you can get it all done in an hour?”

I cocked my head to the side. “I might have a way to get it done,” I declared. I pulled out my phone and hit three on the speed dial. A moment later my favorite angel answered.

“Hey Cas,” I started. “Can I ask a favor? I promise it’ll be fun.”

* * * *

Two days later was Sam’s birthday. I rose early and made my way to the dining room, where Sam was finishing his cup of coffee. Well, I say early. If early can be defined as before noon.

“Morning,” I greeted him. Sam grunted in reply, and I turned away to hide my smile. “What’s the matter?” I asked.

Sam sighed. “Dean went out for a drink last night,” he told me.

I raised an eyebrow as I leaned against the counter with a muffin. “So?” I asked. “Hold on, why did he need to leave to go for a drink? He’s got plenty of liquor here.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “He was probably hoping to hook up with someone,” he muttered.

I nodded. “Ok. So, what’s the problem?”

Sam shot a glare towards the direction of the garage. “He never came home.”

I frowned, pushing down the glee rising in my throat. “Well, that doesn’t mean much,” I stated, trying to make it sound like I was at least slightly worried. “He’s probably just passed out in a bar somewhere.”

“I know.” Sam positively snapped as he grabbed his jacket. “And now I have to go find him.”

“But Dean has the car,” I objected.

“I’ll have to walk to the nearest town and steal a car,” Sam told me. He pointed to the computer. “At least I’ve already tracked his phone. Let me know if he moves.”

I nodded. “Have fun.” I turned away so Sam didn’t see my grin. 

With an annoyed grumble about he was going to make his brother quit drinking, Sam left.

Immediately I pulled out my phone. “You still coming?” I asked Cas. “Our whole plan sort of depends on you.”

“Of course.” 

I smiled and hung up the phone as Cas appeared in the kitchen. Despite the worry that had pervaded the angel’s attitude the last time I’d seen him, he now wore what could only be described as a wicked grin on his face.

“Where do we start?” he asked.

I handed him a slip of paper. “This is the address of the bakery that made the cake,” I told him. “I put the order under my name.” 

Cas nodded and disappeared, and I went to get the bags of decorations from where I’d hidden them under my bed. By the time I had everything stacked on the table Cas had returned, one chocolate cake with chocolate frosting in a white cardboard box in his hands.

I grinned. “Set it down on the counter,” I told him. “Let’s get these balloons blown up.”

We were a surprisingly good team. Within an hour we had the bunker covered in balloons, a string of letters that spelled out **Happy Birthday Sammy!** strung across the entrance to the kitchen. I wrapped the presents Dean, Cas, and I had picked out for Sam, setting them on the table where Sam usually sat.

I glanced at my phone. “Dean should send us a message when they’re on their way back,” I told Cas. I chuckled softly, imagining the eldest Winchester stumbling out of a bar amidst a fake hangover. 

Cas nodded and gently swatted a balloon away from his face. I looked around. We had blown up an entire thirty balloon package of them, tying one to the backs of each of the ten chairs. The rest we’d left free to float around the room.

“How are you?” 

I glanced over, surprised at Cas’s question. The angel was studying me with a familiar crease between his brows, his blue eyes dark with worry.

I sent him a smile. “I’m fine,” I promised.

That was a lie. I couldn’t stop thinking about my family, back in my own universe. While I’d moved on here, they were stuck in a completely different universe, wondering when I would come home. They would always be wondering.

Not only that, but I’d started dreaming of the motel manager I’d killed again. The dreams had shocked me; I’d stopped thinking about him months ago. The realization that the murder had ceased to matter to me so much had only made the dreams worse. Now I felt worse about the act than ever before.

Cas must have realized that I wasn’t being honest, because he stepped forward, and to my surprise drew me against him in a gentle hug. “Do you need to talk?” he asked. 

I shook my head, but didn’t pull out of the hug. “I’m fine,” I assured him. As Cas pulled away I could tell he didn’t believe me, but he let the subject drop.

With nothing better to do we went to the training room while we waited for Sam and Dean to get home. Over the past few months my fighting skills had improved drastically, and I even managed to land a few blows on Cas. They didn’t seem to bother him; in fact each time I managed to strike him he sent me a look of pride that sent my heart soaring. 

It was over an hour later when my phone buzzed with Dean’s text. It had taken Sam longer than I’d thought it would to walk to town. 

I looked over to where Cas waited expectantly. “They’ll be here in a half hour,” I told him. I sniffed at my underarms, cursing as I realized I’d need to shower quickly. Tossing Cas the boxing gloves I’d been wearing, I ran from the room.

I’d just emerged from my room, my hair still wet, when I heard the door leading to the garage open. 

“We’re back,” Sam called, making no attempt to be quiet. I could hear Dean grumble to Sam to keep his voice down, still pretending to be hung over. 

I giggled as I met Cas in the kitchen, and he tossed me a party hat. The thing looked ridiculous, but I strapped it onto my head. 

“In here,” I called.

A minute later a grinning Dean and very grumpy Sam came into view. Sam froze at the sight of the thirty balloons, giving Dean the chance he needed to grab the bucket of confetti we’d left for him and toss the contents over Sam’s head.

“Surprise!” 

Sam stared around him in open mouthed shock, oblivious to the confetti that was currently covering his head like snow. His eyes fired between Dean, Cas, and I.

“You- you did this?” he asked.

Behind him Dean snickered. “You don’t really think I’d get drunk and forget your birthday, do you?” he asked.

Sam stayed silent. Then as the realization of what we’d done finally sank in, he burst into laughter.

Dean, Cas, and I traded happy grins as Sam shook his head free of confetti. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he started. “Guys-”

“Are you happy?” asked Cas. I realized he was starting to get worried. “Did we do it right?” He slanted a worried glance at me, and I sent him a small smile of reassurance.

Sam laughed again. “Are you kidding?” he asked. “This is brilliant. Thank you.” He grabbed first Cas, then me, and finally Dean into a great bear’s hug. 

As Sam and Dean hugged, I barely heard Dean whisper, “happy birthday baby brother,” into Sam’s ear. I smiled at the tears that formed in Sam’s eyes.

“Ok,” I declared. “Enough sappiness. I’ve been waiting days for cake.”

I disappeared into the kitchen, and behind me Sam and Dean broke out in laughter. I didn’t bother to turn as I heard footsteps behind me, recognizing the soft clumps as Cas’s steps.

“You were right,” he said. “This was fun. I’m glad you had me help.”

I turned, a box of candles in my hand, and grinned at him. “Of course I was right,” I told him. “I’m always right.”

At this Cas grinned, opening the box that contained the cake. I was a bit surprised; I’d never seen him laugh so much in one sitting.

I explained the tradition of putting the same amount of candles in a cake as the birthday boy or girl’s age, plus one for good luck. However, I told him, since that would likely result in burning the bunker down, we would just spell out Sam’s age in the cake, then add an extra candle.

He nodded eagerly, drinking in the information. Within a few minutes we had the cake lit, and I carefully carried it out of the kitchen, Cas keeping my path free of balloons.

The rest of the day passed in a happy blur. Sam seemed to thoroughly enjoy being the center of attention, and Dean was more than happy to indulge his little brother. By the end of the night the cake was nearly finished, only a small piece left that Sam quickly confiscated for his breakfast the next morning.

We spent the day trading stories and jokes, and at some point we pulled out a Monopoly game board. The rest of the day was spent in a vicious competition to take control of the railways and businesses. 

I couldn’t help but notice Cas’s eyes continuously flickering towards me. It would happen when he thought no one would catch him, when I was rolling the dice or laughing at something Dean had said. But out of the corner of my eyes I would see his gaze turn to me, his sapphire eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite discern. 

I pushed it from my mind. I would worry about Cas later. Today was all about Sammy.

We ended up having burgers for dinner, and as Cas bit into his I smiled softly, remembering what he’d told me about why he never turned one down. I inspected his face as he chewed. He didn’t seem to be enjoying it much, but he managed to choke it down.

“Wanna try some chips?” I asked. Cas took one look at the bag of potato chips I offered him and shook his head.

“No,” he refused quickly. I laughed at the slightly disgusted expression on his face as I popped a chip into my own mouth.

* * * * 

_It was dark. Not the dark of night, where you at least had a bit of light from the moon, or street lights if you were in a city to guide you. This was a pitch black, never ending darkness. I held my hand up in front of my nose, but couldn’t even make out the outline of my fingers._

_It was also cold. I could feel my breath coming out of my mouth in a steam, and I hugged my arms to my chest to preserve whatever warmth I could. My feet were bare, and the surface I was standing on- rock- leached my body heat out through my toes._

_I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I call out? No. If there was anything unfriendly in the dark, the sound of my voice would draw it right to me. And the months I’d spent hunting with Sam and Dean had taught me that more likely than not, there was always something dangerous in the dark._

_I moved forward slowly, my arms out in front of me and my feet inching along. I didn’t want to fall into some hole in the ground. I hoped I ran into a wall at some point; then I could follow it to an exit. That was of course, assuming that I was in a cave. And assuming the cave had an exit at ground level._

_I paused when a sound reached my ears, and I strained to hear it. Crying._

_I frowned. Who else was here?_

_I followed the sound, automatically moving faster as my heart rate picked up. Someone out there needed help. Not only that, but it meant that I wasn’t alone._

_This caused me to pause. I didn’t know anything about who was out there. What if it was a trap, meant to lure in some sympathetic fool. I didn’t want to be said sympathetic fool._

_I patted my pockets, hoping that I had a weapon on me. What I found instead made me curse loudly._

_“Have I had that on me the whole time?” I muttered, pulling my phone out of my pocket. Well of course I did. It didn’t get into my pocket by magic._

_I stopped myself from turning on the flashlight app on my phone. If whoever was out there was unfriendly, turning on a light would be worse than calling out._

_I moved forward again, muscles tense, until finally I reached the source of the crying. What should I do now? I still didn’t know if it was a trap. Right now, whoever was there supposedly didn’t know I was here, but as soon as I did anything that would change._

Unless this is a trap, _I realized._ Then they already know you’re here.

_“Hello?” I called out. “Who’s there?”_

_The crying paused momentarily, then resumed again. I decided that was a good thing._

_“I have a light,” I continued. “I’m going to turn it on, ok?”_

_I hit a button on my phone, and pale blue light flooded the air around me. I squinted, hissing as my eyes readjusted, and quickly set up the flashlight on my phone._

_I shone the light at the boy huddled in front of me, but he didn’t seem to notice. His back was turned, and he was huddled over something, sobbing into it. I slowly made my way around him, heart pounding as I saw that the thing he was curled around had legs. A person. It was then that I also realized the boy was soaking wet._

_“Are you ok?” I asked. I considered giving him my jacket, then realized that I wasn’t wearing a jacket. “Hey, are you ok?”_

_The boy didn’t respond, and I knelt down opposite him. “I’m Lucy,” I told him. “What’s your name?”_

_I reached out and touched his shoulder, and his head yanked up to stare at me. I gasped as my eyes met his one, the place where his left eye used to be now a bloody mass. With growing horror my eyes worked their way down, knowing what they would find._

_“You did this,” the werewolf accused. “You killed my mother.”_

_I nodded in agreement as I stared at the dark pool of blood on the wolf woman’s chest. Her eyes stared blankly above her, unseeing._

_“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”_

_“Sorry?”_

_I glanced up at the accusation in the boy’s voice. “You killed my mother! You stabbed me in the eye! Your friends killed me and the rest of my family! And you’re sorry?”_

_I whimpered, scrambling back. “You killed people,” I defended myself. “You killed them in cold blood. You would have killed me.”_

_The boy growled, low and deep. “But that doesn’t matter does it?” he asked. “Because I’m dead, and you’re not.”_

_“And what did I do?”_

_I scrambled to my feet and spun at the sound of the thick Italian accent behind me. The manager of the motel in Chicago, the man I’d killed back in my own universe stood just behind me._

_“I never hurt anyone,” he declared. “I was possessed. You knew it. You didn’t have to kill me.” He shook his head angrily. “I had a wife you know,” he told me. “Kids. And YOU TOOK AWAY THEIR FATHER!”_

_I backed away, to the right of where I had been standing. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_

_“And what about me?”_

_I spun as another person appeared behind me: a vampire I’d killed several weeks ago. “Didn’t my life matter?”_

_Suddenly there was an entire cacophony of voices surrounding me, monsters that I had killed in the past five months swarming around me. Each asked the same question over and over again, straining to be heard over the others._

_“Why me?”_

_I sank to my knees, tears streaming down my face. “I’m sorry,” I moaned. The voices only rose, and I clamped my hands over my ears. “I’m sorry!”_

I woke with the scream of those last words still in my throat. Tears were running down my face, and I was breathing heavily with oncoming sobs.

Suddenly the door opened quietly, and I barely made out the familiar swish of Cas’s trench coat before he closed the door behind him. I glanced around the dark room. I was in bed. I must have fallen asleep outside, and someone had tucked me in.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He sat down beside me, and I didn’t respond. I simply launched myself at him, burying my face in his chest and weeping. 

Cas let me. His arms came up to encircle me as he pulled me closer, his hand gently stroking my hair. He stayed silent, waiting for me to speak, and finally I did. I couldn’t hold back my secret anymore.

“I killed him,” I blubbered. “I killed him.”

Even in the near blackness of my room I could see Cas frown. “You killed who?” he asked.

I buried my head in his chest again. “The motel manager.” I explained to him what had happened the night I’d been possessed, then went on to explain that it had been my hand that had killed the inhabitant of the apartment the demons had holed up in. I shuddered as I spoke for the first time of the events surrounding my possession.

Cas listened silently. As I choked to a stop, finished with my tale, my sobs came again, and he pulled me closer to him.

“It’s not your fault,” he murmured. “Lucy, it’s not your fault. Do you hear me?”

I shook my head against his chest. “Yes it is,” I denied. I sniffled. “Maybe not the old woman, but the manager- that’s on me.” I started crying again.

Cas sighed as he began to rub circles into my back. “Listen to me,” he commanded gently. “You were scared. You were panicked. You did what anyone would have done.”

“But I knew it wouldn’t work,” I told him. “I knew it wouldn’t affect the demon, and that it would just kill the manager. I knew, and I did it anyway.”

“Anyone would have,” Cas objected. “Lucy, you were being attacked. You can’t expect that you could have taken all that into consideration at the time. Your instincts were to defend yourself any way you could, and so you did.”

I still didn’t believed him, but his words were nonetheless getting to me, calming my muddled mind. I shuddered against him, and he pulled me up and into his lap.

“Do you want to talk about what you dreamt of?” he asked.

I shook my head. Maybe I would tell him another time, but not tonight. I couldn’t handle thinking about it anymore. Everyone in the dream- with the exception of the motel manager- I knew had deserved to die. They had killed innocent people, and my actions had saved lives. I just needed time to come to terms with it.

I shoved the dream out of my mind though, sniffling as I wiped my hand across my eyes. I needed to talk about something else.

“How did you know I was having a nightmare?” I asked. God, the word nightmare sounded so silly. Like I was a five year old running into her parents’ bedroom, afraid of the monster under the bed.

“I was talking with Dean and Sam in the dining room,” Cas explained. “I could feel your distress.”

I groaned. “They’re not going to come in, are they?” I asked.

Cas shook his head. “I didn’t tell them I was coming here,” he assured me. “I told them I was heading back to heaven.”

I sighed in relief. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For not telling. And for coming.”

Cas nodded, his chin just brushing my hair. “Of course,” he murmured.

He began to stand, shifting so that I was settled back in my bed. “Will you be alright?” he asked.

I nodded and made a noise of affirmation, trying to ignore the squeeze of my heart as he pulled the covers over me. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to be alone.

“Can you stay?” I blurted out. My cheeks reddened, and I shook my head. That was a stupid idea. “Never mind,” I corrected myself. 

I was surprised when Cas slid into bed next to me. As shocked as I was, I was nonetheless comforted as he pulled me against him, his arm coming out to curl around me. 

“Of course I’ll stay,” he told me. “As long as you need.”

I gulped. I really should tell him to leave. I was sure he had better things to do than cuddle with me because I was afraid to go to sleep. Yet it felt so nice to have him there, and his presence really did help. I just couldn’t send him away.

“Thank you.” I settled against him, burying my face in his chest. “Goodnight,” I murmured.

“Goodnight,” Cas whispered. I closed my eyes, letting the steady sound of his breathing lull me to sleep. This time, I didn’t dream.


	18. Of Soul Sharing and Why I am not a Disney Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a few days past now, but I just want to say to everyone: Happy Thanksgiving!!!

“I feel sort of guilty now,” Sam told me. “I didn’t do anything big for Dean’s birthday.”

I shrugged. Dean’s birthday had been at the end of January, and Sam had given Dean a typical happy birthday wish and cleared the motel room they’d been sharing at the time so his brother could have it to himself for the night. Other than that the occasion had passed inconspicuously.

“You couldn’t exactly throw a big party,” I assured him. “We were in the middle of a case. Though I’m still pissed that neither of you told me until the day of.”

Sam chuckled, remembering the glare and head slap I’d given him when I’d found out halfway through the day. “Sorry,” he said again.

“Yeah, yeah.” I dumped two heaping spoonful’s of sugar into my coffee. “But next year we’ll throw him a party.”

Sam nodded determinedly. “Definitely,” he agreed.

“You really don’t have to.” Dean clomped into the kitchen, his hair still ruffled from sleeping on it, and headed straight to the coffee machine. He paused halfway there. “When’s your birthday Lucy?”

I snorted. “I’m not telling,” I told him.

“Come on.” Sam sent me a puppy dog face. “Please?”

I shook my head, grinning. “Nope. Not gonna happen.”

Dean grabbed me from behind, and I shrieked as he draped me easily over his shoulder. He moved to an open space in the kitchen and began to spin rapidly in a circle. 

“Dean,” I screeched. “Put me down!”

“Not until you tell us,” he laughed. 

I groaned and started pounding on his back, but it didn’t seem to affect him. By now I was thoroughly dizzy, not to mention a bit sick.

“Fine,” I moaned. “I’ll tell you, just put me down!”

With a smug smile Dean set me on my feet, and I staggered away from him, collapsing in a chair. 

“Well?” Dean didn’t seem at all sorry for nearly making me sick. I was tempted to throw up on him.

I decided not to. “July twenty-second,” I told him. “Happy?” I buried my face in my hands, still trying to force the contents of my stomach back down my throat.

“Yep.” Dean ruffled my hair and went back to getting his coffee, and I scowled at Sam’s guffaws from down the table. 

“Yeah, keep laughing Sammy,” I called. “We’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

This only made the two hoot harder.

* * * * 

It was a slow time for monster hunting. The boys and I spent our usual couple of hours training, then Sam went to work on organizing the library and Dean disappeared into his room to clean and polish his arsenal of weapons. I settled onto my bed with my latest book, not bothering to kick off my boots.

“Hello Lucy.”

I glanced up in surprise as Cas appeared, a smile quickly taking over my face. 

“Hey,” I called. I tilted my head to the side. “What’s up?”

I hadn’t seen Cas in several days, since the day after Sam’s birthday. True to his word, the angel had still been stretched out beside me when I’d woken up, and once I’d assured him I was alright he’d vanished. Later that night he’d appeared again, unsure if I needed him again, but I’d sent him away. After, of course, he’d made me promise to call him if I had any more nightmares.

I hadn’t, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t loathe to fall asleep. The result had been dark circles under my eyes and a considerable increase in my coffee intake. While I was sure Sam and Dean had noticed, they hadn’t commented. Yet.

“How have you been?” Cas asked. His eyes were dark with worry, the skin between his eyebrows creased. I shrugged, trying to play nonchalant.

“I’m fine,” I assured him. 

Cas’s eyebrows rose as his gaze fixed in on the circles under my eyes. 

“Really,” I told him. “I’m fine.”

Cas shook his head. “I don’t believe that,” he stated.

I frowned. Since when was he so vocal about what he did and didn’t believe about what I said? And since when did he care so much?

I sighed and was about to ask when Cas held his hand out. “Come with me,” he said softly.

I eyed his hand. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him, but I wasn’t going to just go running off because he batted his eyes at me. Even if he did have very pretty eyes.

“Where?” I responded, crossing my arms.

Cas kept his hand stretched towards me. “Away,” he said. “You need to get away.”

I shook my head. “I can’t just leave,” I told him. “Sam and Dean would flip.”

Cas grabbed the little notebook that I often took case notes in and jotted something down, then tore out the paper and set it on my bed. I picked it up and looked at it.

**Lucy is with me. Don’t worry about her; I’ll keep her safe.**

**Cas**

I frowned. “I don’t need you to keep me safe,” I objected. “I can handle myself!”

Cas sighed. “I’m sure,” he stated. Judging by the tone to his voice, he wasn’t sure. “But you said Dean and Sam would be worried.” He held out his hand again. “Please.”

I sighed and stood, grabbing my jacket, knife, and phone. I didn’t know where we were going, and I wasn’t going to be unprepared.

As soon as I touched Cas’s hand we vanished. My stomach lurched, but a moment later it was over. I opened my eyes, not even aware that I’d closed them, and stared around me.

We were standing in grass, deep green and tall, waving in the wind. The long blades tickled my legs through my jeans and the wind chilled me. I quickly pulled my jacket on.

Then I looked to my right, and my jaw dropped. We were standing near the edge of a cliff that looked out over a sheer drop of over three hundred feet, the Atlantic Ocean surging against the rocks below. The ocean wind carried the smell of salt and the call of seagulls to us. The waves sparkled under the sun, stretching out to the horizon to meet an equally blue sky. It was gorgeous.

“Where are we?” I asked. I spun slowly in a circle, drinking in what I saw, and Cas smiled happily.

“Ireland,” he answered. “I hear it’s famous for being beautiful.”

I nodded. “I can see why,” I breathed.

Now Cas’s eyes were sparkling. He watched me, his face unreadable, but I could see the happiness in his eyes as I laughed joyfully. It felt good to laugh like that. I hadn’t for a long time. I closed my eyes and faced the wind, letting it blow my curly hair back behind me. I needed to get outside more often.

Eventually Cas took my hand and led me several meters away, and I saw a picnic blanket and basket spread out in the grass. I gave Cas a wonder filled look, ignoring the date-like implications of the scene. This was Cas. He probably didn’t realize what most people would make of a cliff-side picnic.

“Did you do this?” I asked. _Well duh._

Cas nodded. “I thought you might enjoy it,” he said. He frowned in sudden worry. “Was I wrong?”

I laughed again and pulled Cas into a hug. “This is amazing,” I sang. I pulled back and planted a soft kiss on Cas’s cheeks, and his face turned as red as a tomato. “Thank you.”

Cas nodded, seeming unsure what to do at this point. I solved that by plopping down on the blanket and opening the basket. He had packed several ham and cheese sandwiches, chips, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.

Damn, he knew me well.

I felt a little awkward eating when Cas wasn’t, but he seemed content to gaze out over the cliffs. At least that’s what I thought at first. But I soon found that each time I looked out at the swirling birds his eyes would flicker over to my face.

“Alright,” I said at last. I swallowed the last bite of my sandwich and turned to face Cas, who, sensing the tone to my voice, was now looking slightly scared. “What’s going on with you?”

Cas blinked. “What do you mean?”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean all of this.” I swept my arm around to indicate our picnic, as well as his overbearing protectiveness over the past few months. “Cas, why are you doing all this? And don’t say-”

“I worry about you,” he said.

“And don’t say you worry!” I sighed at his interruption. “Hold on. Before it was that you worry about the three of us. Now it’s just me. What’s changed?”

Now the gears were really going in Cas’s head. I refused to feel sorry for him; this was a conversation that we should have had long ago. I’d put it off long enough. Now I needed answers.

Still, he seemed stumped. He clearly had no idea how to explain what was going on to me. I would need to walk him through it as best as I could. Which, given that I wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, was going to be difficult.

I patted his hand. “Let’s start simple,” I suggested. “Why are you worried so much about me?”

Cas shot me a look that said he thought that question was anything _but_ simple. It took him a minute to respond, during which time his eyes roamed over the cliffs as if searching for an answer there. “Because I’ve seen you,” he muttered.

My eyebrows came up. “Well yeah,” I said. “Of course you have. I’m sitting right here. What does that have to do with anything?”

Cas shook his head. “Not like that,” he explained. “I’ve seen _inside_ you. I’ve seen the real you, everything that makes you, you.”

I frowned. “Hold on, you’re talking souls here. When did you see my soul?”

Cas smiled. “There are a few things your Men of Letters books don’t cover,” he chided gently. “It involves healing. In order for an angel to heal a person, we must make a connection with them at the basis of our souls.” He paused.

“The first time I saw your soul was in your universe. I was cut off from heaven, and so couldn’t fully make the connection and therefore couldn’t heal you, but I still got a glimpse.” His eyes took on a faraway look. “The next time was after you were possessed.” He shuddered, and I felt a chill run up my own spine at the memory. That had not been a fun day. “The more serious a person’s injuries are, the deeper the connection to their soul has to be for me to heal them. It was my first true look at who you were.”

Cas surged forward. Now that he’d started talking, he couldn’t seem to stop. “After the first glimpse just after we’d met, I couldn’t help but wonder about you. I remembered how you’d jumped in front of Dean when the demon charged him at your school, and how you were so willing to sacrifice your own future for us. And you’ve never complained about the fact that you’re trapped here; you’re not angry with us for it.

“I saw that you weren’t angry when I healed you after you fought the werewolves. I also saw how distressed you were at your predicament.” Cas gulped. “And each time I’ve seen your soul, I just-”

I shot him with a glare. “Don’t you dare spout some ‘you have a beautiful soul’ crap,” I warned him.

Cas frowned. “But you do,” he insisted. “I’ve seen it.”

I rolled my eyes. “But that sounds so sappy!”

Cas blinked, surprised at my reaction. Clearly he hadn’t expected sarcasm. Well, it was my default when I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, and at that moment I had absolutely no idea what I was feeling.

So he thought I had a beautiful soul. Big whoop. I was sure lots of people did. And besides, with my occupation of choice, I doubted my soul was quite as beautiful as Cas made it seem, but I decided not to point that out. I was still missing facts.

“Ok, so that’s the backstory,” I mused. “But it’s still not an explanation. Why do you care so much?”

Cas blinked. “Because when I saw you, the real you,” he amended, “you were beautiful. I know you think that’s sappy, but it’s the truth. And I don’t want that beauty to fade away.”

So my soul was tainted. I looked down at the ground, more upset than I would have liked to admit by his words. How far had I sunk?

Cas lifted my chin, his blue eyes probing mine. Some of what I was feeling must have been written on my face, because the angel looked horrified.

“Lucy,” he murmured. “I don’t mean that you’re turning evil. I don’t think you could.” He let out a short laugh, as though the idea was preposterous. “I mean your life. Your willingness to live, to- to-” he waved his arms in the air as if it would accentuate his point. 

“Your spark,” he said suddenly. “Isn’t that what they refer to it as in books? A person’s spark?”

I nodded slowly. What was he getting at?

Cas looked at me, his eyes open for me to read. What I saw there made my breath hitch in my throat. “I don’t want you to lose your spark, Lucy.”

My eyes widened, and it was a long time before I could respond to his words. He didn’t think I was evil? The idea seemed ridiculous. If he had seen my soul, surely he had found something bad in there. Yet he seemed to have such faith in me; despite myself, I started to believe what he was saying. I wasn’t evil. 

“I-” I closed my mouth, then opened it again. Then I closed it and opened it a few more times. “I don’t really know what to say,” I admitted.

Cas looked like he wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Just promise me,” he said. “Promise me you won’t fade away.”

His blue eyes searched mine, suddenly vulnerable with fear at the prospect, and I found that at that moment I would have promised him anything.

“Never,” I promised. I shook my head to regain my composure, then sent him a smile. “Do I look like the dainty, fades away type?”

Cas laughed shortly. “No,” he admitted, his voice completely honest. 

“You know,” I mused. “There’s such a thing as a perception filter. Are you sure you read my soul right? You could have missed something bad, or just blocked it out of what you saw.”

Cas shook his head adamantly. “I know what I saw,” he insisted. “And it was- is beautiful.”

I gulped. I needed to think. I stood and walked away, ignoring Cas’s worried eyes on my back, and stared out over the cliff. Below me the waves still crashed against the rocks, foam spraying into the air.

“Lucy?” I turned to see that Cas had come up behind me, his face clouded with worry. “Are you ok?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah,” I said, fighting back the catch in my throat. _No._ “Just give me a minute.”

Cas nodded and hung back, and I turned away. There were so many emotions swirling around in my head; I didn’t know how they all fit together. I didn’t even know what they all were. I was touched by Cas’s care for me, by his insistence that the life I’d chosen hadn’t turned me evil. That bit was more than a little reassuring as well. Part of me felt that as long as he had faith in me, I had to be good.

I was also a bit peeved. Did he think that I was going to fade away or whatever just because I was trapped in a different universe? I was not some faint Disney princess that needed to be rescued by the blue eyed prince. I could save myself, thank you very much.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I told myself I was being ridiculous. This was Cas. He excelled at worrying. And just because I didn’t feel like I was any different than normal didn’t mean that was the case. Soldiers came home from war all the time with PTSD. I was sure none of them saw it coming. It just happened. There was nothing they could do about it, and nothing I could do about it if my life started to really get to me. I could only hope that the support of Sam, Dean, and Cas kept it from happening. 

Which was, I realized, exactly what Cas was trying to do for me. And exactly what I’d been trying to do for them.

I laughed, turning, and Cas stared at me, probably wondering if I’d gone mad. At the look on his face I descended into snickers, then stumbled forward and drew him into a hug.

“Are you ok?” he asked again. 

I nodded against his chest.

“You know,” I told him. “When we first met I thought the three of you were broken. I convinced myself that I needed to save you lot.”

Cas frowned. “Really?” he asked. He considered. “Sam and Dean I can see; I worry about them too, but why me?”

I smiled. “You seemed lost,” I told him. “It was like you had one foot inside each world, part human and part angel. I always thought you weren’t sure what you were anymore.” I cocked my head to the side. “I’m thinking maybe I was wrong.”

Cas’s frown deepened. “Meaning?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I thought that your- your dislocation from both worlds was your way of coping. That by engaging in both but not immersing yourself fully in either you could deal with all the crap going on. I just always thought you didn’t quite know what you wanted anymore.” I shook my head. “But I think its character growth. It’s just what was best for you.”

“Is that a compliment?” Cas seemed unsure how to react. 

I laughed. “Yes,” I told him. “That’s a compliment.”

He grinned, looking like my compliment had made his day. He took my hand and led me back to the picnic blanket, and we settled happily next to each other as I began to pick at the chocolate.

“Is time different here than from your world?” Cas asked. 

I looked at him questioningly. 

“When we arrived in this world it was December eleventh,” he stated. “Was it December eleventh in your world when we left? I don’t remember.”

I thought back. “Yeah,” I said. “At least I think so. Once I ran off with you three I sort of stopped paying attention to the date, but it was early December when you first arrived.”

“But there wasn’t snow,” he objected.

I scoffed. “Winter’s been a bit skimpy lately. I was in a constant state of fear that I wouldn’t be getting my white Christmas.”

Cas chuckled, then faded into silence. We sat there comfortably for several minutes, until he spoke again.

“So,” he started. “July twenty-second.”

I stopped eating to glare at him. “Whatever you three are planning, forget it. Don’t even try anything.”

Cas’s only response was a scandalizing grin.

“What about you?” I asked. “I take it angels don’t celebrate birthdays.”

Cas shook his head. “No,” he told me. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I feel bad. You should have a day for yourself.”

Cas didn’t seemed bothered by his lack of a birthday. “I don’t need one,” he assured me. 

I nodded, still not pleased. If the boys insisted on throwing me a birthday party- which I had a nagging feeling they were going to do- then I needed a date to hold over his head.

Beside me Cas sighed. “Would it make you feel better if I had one?” he asked.

I thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes.”

Cas considered. “Alright,” he said finally. “How about December first?”

I nodded. “Why then?” I asked curiously. 

Cas shrugged in response, but by the tenseness that had set over his shoulders I knew he had a reason. I decided to let him keep his secret for now. We’d certainly done enough soul-sharing for the day.

Suddenly Cas’s head titled to the side, and a concerned look took over his features. Concerned was probably an understatement. What I was seeing was more like panic.

“Cas?” I felt alarm rise in me as he leapt to his feet, and I shoved the rest of the chocolates back in the picnic basket and stood. I had a feeling our outing was about to end.

“Cas, what is it?” I asked.

Cas looked to me for the first time, his blue eyes wide. “I have to go,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

I nodded. “It’s ok.” I sent him a soft smile as I gathered up the basket and blanket. A moment later Cas tugged them out of my arms, and I wrapped my hand around his wrist.

He deposited me back in my room at the bunker, setting the picnic supplies on my bed. I had no idea where he’d gotten them, but I wasn’t about to request he delay getting to whatever was going on to bring them back.

“Cas,” I said. “What’s going on? Do you need us to come?” I jerked my head towards the door as I spoke to indicate Sam and Dean, who probably hadn’t even noticed my absence yet.

Cas seemed to consider for a moment, but then he shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I can handle it.”

I nodded. “Be careful, ok?” I asked. “And stop by when you have a chance to tell me what’s going on.”

Cas nodded. “Goodbye Lucy,” he whispered. Then he was gone.

I sighed, pushing down the worry that was clotting in my stomach. Cas was a big boy. He could take care of himself.

Not that the fact stopped me from worrying. I ignored the voice in the back of my head listing a steam of what if’s and folded the picnic blanket. It still smelled like grass and sea salt, and I set it on my bed. 

The basket I brought to the kitchen, shoving the leftover food in the cabinets and leaving the basket in the corner of the room. The boys could figure out what to do with it.

I leaned against the counter, unsure what to do. I doubted the book I’d been reading could hold my attention; I was too worried about whatever it was Cas had run off to take care of. With a sigh I headed off to see if Dean was in his room. I might as well tell the boys something had happened.

Dean glanced up when I knocked, and I smiled as I swung the door softly open. “Hey,” he called.

“Hey.” I settled on the edge of his bed, and he cleared a space for me amid the knives and guns. I picked up a knife and played absentmindedly with it. A moment later Sam appeared at the door.

“I’m here,” he called. “What do you need?”

Dean looked at me questioningly. 

“I sent him a text,” I supplied. I took a deep breath. How much of the events of the past hour- had it really only been an hour- was I going to tell them? I eventually decided to just fill them in on how Cas had gone running off.

“I saw Cas today,” I started.

“Really?” Sam glanced out the door. “When’d he come? Is he still here?”

I shook my head. “He had to go.”

Dean studied my expression. “You’re worried,” he commented lightly.

I nodded. “I think he heard something on that angel radio thing, that mental connection they’ve all got.” I twirled my fingers through the air to make my point, and the brothers nodded. “He seemed upset about something, but he wouldn’t say what. I think something else has happened.”

Sam leaned against the wall. “I wonder what it is,” he mused.

“How worried was he?” asked Dean. “Was it an ‘another winged douchebag just got ganked’ worry, or more of a ‘well this is some new shit’ worry?” 

I smirked at his wording. “Can you tell with him?” I asked. “He looked pretty upset, but I’ve seen him freak out after spilling ketchup on his shirt.”

“True,” Dean admitted.

“There’s not much we can do for now,” Sam stated. “He’ll pop back in when he has a chance.” He looked over to me. “Why was he here anyway?”

I shrugged, my cheeks reddening. “He was just checking in,” I said, fighting to keep my voice nonchalant. 

I wasn’t fooling anyone. “Right…” Dean said amusedly. He stood and began putting his weapons back in their proper places on his bedroom wall.

I scowled, but didn’t volunteer any information. I didn’t know what they would do if they found out Cas had taken me on a picnic. I didn’t want to know.

Sam led the way to the kitchen, and Dean got started on making something for us to eat. I declined the food, and though he seemed a bit confused by my lack of appetite, he didn’t object.

“Hey Lucy?” 

I glanced over to see Sam holding the picnic basket. 

“What’s this?” he asked.

_Shit._

“A basket,” I commented dryly, fighting the blush that was creeping up my neck again. Sam nodded slowly and set the basket down, thankfully not choosing to comment.

“Hey guys?” I asked a while later. 

Sam and Dean looked up from their food.

“Yeah?” they asked.

“What’s so important about December first?” I asked. “I mean, did anything happen on that date?”

They looked at me skeptically. “Why?” asked Sam.

I shrugged. “Just curious.”

I could tell they didn’t believe me, but once more they didn’t press, taking a minute to think.

“Nothing happened really,” Dean said. “Oh, yeah, now I remember.” He nodded to himself as he remembered some event.

I rolled my eyes. “Care to share?”

Sam and Dean traded looks. “That’s the day we met you,” Dean explained. “Why?”

As the realization of his words sank in I could only respond with a shocked expression that sent the boys into confused chuckles.


	19. What Cas isn't Allowed to Do

“Lucy, stop pacing!”

I stopped and sent a glare to Dean, who was staring at me with a slightly pained expression on his face.

“I’m sorry,” I snapped sarcastically. “Is my worry bothering you?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “We’re all worried,” he stated. “But you’re putting my teeth on edge. Sit down. Calm down. When was the last time you ate?”

I shrugged. I hadn’t really been paying attention to meals. With the painful clenching and unclenching of my stomach with worry about Cas, I wasn’t sure I could stomach anything. 

“I dunno,” I admitted. 

Dean nodded smugly, and again I scowled.

“Here.” Sam handed me a glass of water. “Start with this. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not hungry,” I complained.

“It’s not optional,” Sam called, already disappearing into the kitchen. 

I ground my teeth.

Dean sighed. “Lucy, Cas can take care of himself,” he stated.

“I know.” I frowned. “I just have a bad feeling.”

“Do you want to track his phone?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

As Dean went to get the laptop from where Sam had left it in the library I began to pace again. It had been a day since my picnic with Cas, and I hadn’t heard from him since he’d run off. And with the panicked look that he’d worn when he’d disappeared, I couldn’t help but think that there was a greater reason to his absence than him being busy.

I’d tried calling him of course, but he hadn’t answered. I’d been tempted to track his phone before now, but Sam and Dean had persuaded me to give Cas some time before I went and panicked. Which I thought was a bit hypocritical, given that the three were renowned for their skills at panicking over the wellbeing of those they cared about.

And so I’d waited, and after twenty four hours I still hadn’t received so much as a text from Cas. If a demon hadn’t already killed him, I was pretty sure I was going to.

Dean pointed to my chair as he returned with the laptop, and I sat again, tapping my fingers on the table as he hit the power button. Several minutes later he had Cas’s phone pinged. 

“He’s in New York,” he stated. “In the Adirondacks.”

I nodded. New York. That was ironic. A bit too ironic actually. My worry only increased as my mind went to the parallel version of my family that lived only hours away from the mountains. 

Sam patted my back as he set a plate in front of me. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he said, sitting next to me. “He’s just being Cas. He’ll turn up in a few days as his usual brooding self, and we can all take turns yelling at him.”

I nodded, pulling my legs under me as I began to eat. Once I’d started my stomach growled angrily, and I realized I was hungrier than I’d realized. Beside me Sam chuckled, while Dean looked upset that I’d gone so long without a meal. Well, it wasn’t like I’d done it on purpose. He could just deal.

“Anyway,” said Dean. “Let’s give him a couple hours. If he doesn’t move from there or call us we’ll go find him.”

I shook my head. “No,” I argued. “Let’s go now.”

“Lucy, don’t you think you’re overreacting?” asked Sam.

I shook my head. “No. I’m telling you, something doesn’t feel right.”

Dean sighed and traded looks with Sam, who shrugged. He could tell I wasn’t going to let this go.

“Fine,” Dean said. “But I’m telling you, by the time we’re halfway there he’ll have moved.”

I sent him a glare as I jumped up. “I’m telling you he won’t have.”

It took us nearly a whole day to get to the mountains, and whereas I normally would have fallen asleep in the car I found that I just couldn’t relax enough. The boys noticed, each doing their best to reassure me, but since the dot that indicated Cas’s phone hadn’t moved at all while we were driving I wasn’t exactly listening to them.

Sam located the relative position of Cas’s phone within the mountains. He was in the general location of an abandoned cabin. I remembered hearing a friend talk about it once at school. She’d said it was haunted. Going by the company I kept in this universe, I was guessing that here, at least, that was true.

As we reached the parking lot that lead to the trails I leapt out of the car. I waited impatiently at the trunk for them to unlock it, grabbed a rock salt gun and a silver knife, and started up the correct path.

“Could you wait?” Sam and Dean jogged to catch up with me.

“Could you keep up?” I shot back.

We were silent as we made our way to the cabin. Despite their constant reassurances during the past two days, I could tell Sam and Dean were as worried as I was. The eerie silence that had settled over the woods didn’t seem to be helping.

Finally the cabin came into sight, and I had to force myself not to go bursting in. If there was anything not-so-nice in there, my running in wouldn’t help at all.

I let Sam take the lead, gently nudging the screen door open with the tip of his knife. He stuck his head in and glanced around before entering, and I followed, Dean just behind me.

Instantly I knew something wasn’t right. I couldn’t quite place the feeling that settled over me. The only thing I was sure of was that the knot of worry in my stomach had turned to a rock.

That was, of course, before I got a look at the place. When I’d first entered Sam’s huge bulk had blocked my view, and all I’d seen was his jacket inches in front of my nose. As he gasped in horror I frowned and shoved past him to look at the living room of the cabin. 

The fact that we were standing in a living room was more than a little ironic. The boys and I were the only living things there. In front of us, laying in piles on the floor and across the furniture were dozens of angels. Each of their throats were slit, but I could see that unlike the others, their hands were bound behind their backs.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered. 

I ignored him, stumbling forward as I searched through the bodies, dreading what I might find.

“Is he here?” I shoved one angel off another, and felt only slightly guilty at the relief that the blank stare of the eyes beneath me weren’t Cas’s sapphire blue.

“I don’t see him.” Sam let an angel fall from his grip as he spoke, and he turned to look around. “What happened here?”

“Guys, look at this.”

Sam and I followed Dean’s call into the bedroom, and I stared at the symbol painted on the wall.

“What is that?” I asked.

Sam frowned. “I know,” he muttered. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember, then his eyes met ours as his face turned white. “It’s a trapping sigil,” he told us. “Once it’s painted, any angel to enter the room blacks out.” He moved to the door and fingered the lock. 

“This was a trap,” Dean guessed. “Demons must have lured a bunch of angels here and locked them in this room. This way they could just come in here and grab one whenever they needed.”

“But what do they need angels for?” I asked. “And why’d they have to take them out of the safety room to kill them? It would’ve been easier to just slit their throats while they were unconscious. And where the hell is Cas?”

Sam frowned as he turned back to the sigil painted on the wall. “It’s damaged,” he said. He turned back to us, eyes wide. “One of the angels must have managed to change the symbol before they blacked out, which broke the spell. Cas must’ve run for it.”

I frowned. “But why didn’t he just pop to the bunker?”

“He must be in the mountains still,” Dean reasoned. “Probably trying to find the other angels and get them to safety.”

I sighed. That sounded like Cas. Sometimes I really hated his insistence on putting everyone else before himself.

I pushed out of the room, examining the living room of the cabin again. Now that I was no longer focusing on the bodies that littered the floor, I was noticing the signs of the struggle that had taken place in the room. The furniture was tipped over and shredded, any and all glass surfaces in the room shattered, and there were blood smears and gashes in the walls and floor.

“Think,” I muttered. “If Cas was running, which way would he head?”

“The back door,” Dean guessed. 

I nodded and moved forward, and Dean grabbed my arm.

“Stay between us,” he ordered. “There’ll be demons about.”

I nodded, not really in the mood to argue. Once Sam and Dean had arranged themselves on either side of me we started through the kitchen, which bore equal signs of battle, then pushed out the back door and into the woods beyond.

“Look,” said Sam. “Blood.” He started forward, following the trail of drops that made its way down the hill behind the hut. I followed, my heart pounding. What if it was Cas’s? What if he was hurt, or dead?

I felt fury rise within me at the thought. He had better not be dead. If those demons had hurt the angel I loved, they would be sorry.

Wait. 

_The angel I loved?_

The realization of what had gone through my head stunned me, and I tripped on a root protruding from the ground. Only Sam’s hand on my arm kept me from doing a face plant.

Did I love Cas? The question made me stumble again, though not as bad as the first time, and I gritted my teeth as I forced myself not to think about that. It really didn’t matter at the moment. Right now I needed to find Cas. Then I could worry about if my urge to kiss him or strangle him was greater.

Ok, I really needed to get a handle on my thoughts. I shook my head as we made our way down a hill, and I felt panic rising in me as we came to a river flowing at the base of the slope. On the ground just before the river was a spray of blood, as well as a piece of beige cloth that had been torn from Cas’s trench coat.

“He fell into the river,” I realized. I took off at a sprint, following the river downstream and ignoring the shouts of Sam and Dean behind me. This was not good. Not only had he fallen into the river, but he’d been badly hurt just before. Chances were that he wasn’t alive.

I couldn’t think of that. I just needed to find him. Hopefully he hadn’t fallen in too long ago, and hopefully he’d managed to drag himself to shore at some point. Or even just found a rock to cling to. I was more than willing to go for a swim.

Then I spotted motion ahead of me. It took me a moment for my eyes to focus on what it was, but what I saw turned my blood to ice. Two demons were crouched over a motionless form at the edge of the river, and both demons were brandishing three edged angel blades. Even without seeing what they were huddled over, I knew it was Cas.

“Get away from him!” I pulled out my gun as the demons stood, firing off a shot. Unfortunately my aim with a gun hadn’t improved much over the past months, and the shot ricocheted off a tree several feet behind the demon. It grinned and started towards me.

I ran straight at it, dropping to my knees and sliding at the last possible moment. I scrambled quickly to my feet and spun before the demon could recover, giving it a good kick in the back that sent it stumbling forward. Straight into Dean’s angel blade.

Dean yanked his arm back, and the demon fell to the ground. 

“Don’t run off again,” he growled. 

I ignored him, turning to look for the other demon. Sam was already dealing with it, and as I watched an orange and red glow flickered out from the demon’s eyes as Sam stabbed it through the throat.

With the demons dead I launched myself at Cas, falling to my knees in the leaves beside him. He was lying face down in the mud, soaking wet. I turned him over gently in my arms.

“Oh no.” Even with the absolute zero hours of medical training I’d received, I knew Cas’s wound wasn’t good. A single slash across his midsection had turned the front of his shirt red, and despite what I was sure was the short amount of time he’d been lying there, the ground beneath where he’d dragged himself to shore was covered in a pool of blood. Not only that, but a bright blue-white glow was leaking out from the grisly wound. It must have been inflicted by an angel blade.

“Shit.” Sam stripped off his flannel shirt and pressed it to Cas’s stomach. Despite the agony the pressure must have been causing him, the angel didn’t even groan. I wasn’t sure if he was past the point of feeling anything. 

“What do we do?” I asked. I looked back and forth between Sam and Dean; both had identical horrified looks on their pale faces. “Guys! What do we do?”

Dean looked at me for the first time. “I don’t know,” he choked.

I looked down at the angel I held in my arms. His skin was pale, almost deathly so, the contrast startling against my dark arms. His black hair fell over his eyes, and even though they were closed I found myself reaching down to gently brush it out of his face. It was only when tears began to drip onto his face that I realized I was crying.

“Come on Cas,” I muttered. “Stay with me. Hold on.” 

Cas didn’t respond, and I shook him roughly, watching in horror as his head flopped around limply. “Stay with me!” I yelled.

Cas’s unresponsiveness seemed to be causing Dean to panic as well. I watched as he reached over to stop the angel’s head from rolling, gently pressing his hands to his adopted brother’s cheeks. 

“Cas,” he whispered. He raised Cas’s face ever so slightly, trying to will him to move. “Cas!”

I looked over to Sam and Dean. “Should we move him?” I asked, my vision beginning to clog with tears. 

Sam shook his head, still doing his best to staunch the flow of blood from Cas’s stomach. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” he said.

I nodded and looked down at the shirt he had pressed to the angel’s midsection. It was already soaked with blood, more of the sticky red stuff seeping out between his fingers, and Dean quickly handed Sam his own shirt to use. As Sam had, he quickly pulled his jacket back over his undershirt, to shield himself from the cold air. 

I grabbed one of Cas’s hands in my own, bringing it up so that it pressed against the side of my face. “Come on,” I murmured. “Please. Please don’t die.” I pressed my lips to his hand, my terror only growing at the cold clamminess that had overtaken his skin.

I whirled as a twig snapped behind me, barely making out the dark form of the demon as it leapt at me. Dean was already moving, and he tackled the demon to the ground and stabbed it. I glanced around, spotting several more demons coming from upstream.

“Guys,” I shouted. I pointed, and Sam cursed. I quickly took over the pressure on Cas’s stomach. “I’ve got this,” I promised. “Go.”

Sam nodded and scrambled to his feet, and he and Dean charged forward to meet the demons head on. My heart pounded in my throat as I watched them go, but I forced myself to turn my attention back to Cas. Sam and Dean could handle themselves.

Instinct made me turn my head again, and I was glad I did. One of the demons had made it past Sam and Dean and was rushing me. I cursed and scrambled to my feet, gently lowering Cas to the ground. 

I inspected my options as the demon moved closer. I had dropped my gun when I’d first gone to Cas’s aid, and I wasn’t sure where it was. The only weapons I had on me were two knives, and I knew neither of them would work on a demon. My only option was to pry an angels’ blade from one of the dead demons that littered the forest. Which was an issue since there was currently a very alive demon in between me and them.

I gritted my teeth and charged, once more dropping to my knees to avoid the flash of metal as the demon took a swing at me. I crawled forward, fumbling to detach the stiff fingers of one of the dead demons from the hilt of the knife it clutched, glancing behind me every few seconds.

The demon came at me again, and I involuntarily let out a scream of fright as it swung its blade downward. I rolled away and scrambled to my feet, knowing there was no chance I would be able to get my hands on a knife now.

I continued backing up, searching my brain for ideas. A moment later my feet were plunging into the river’s current, and I nearly lost my balance. The demon took advantage of this as it leapt forward, the three edged blade aimed for my heart.

Then it jerked to a stop as a flash of white light exploded out of its head, and I automatically squeezed my eyes shut. I opened them only after the glow had faded, just in time to see the demon topple to the ground. In its place stood Cas.

I stared in openmouthed shock. 

“Cas,” I breathed. I then squeaked as he wobbled once, and then his knees buckled. I caught him in my arms before he could crash to the ground, lowering him gently down and kneeling over him.

“I- I heard you s-scream,” he stammered. His blue eyes, normally bright with energy, were dulling. “Are y-you ok?”

“Shut up,” I ordered. “I’m fine.” I pressed shaky hands to his stomach, trying once more to staunch the blood flow, and Cas groaned in pain. 

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

Cas mumbled something about how it was fine, his eyes fluttering shut. I felt my heart clench.

“Don’t you dare.” I reached down and smacked him hard, and he wrenched his eyes open. “Don’t you dare leave me,” I ordered. 

Then an idea occurred to me, and I blurted it out.

“Use my soul.”

“What?” Cas seemed to have woken slightly at this, startled by my offer.

I rolled my eyes. “Feed off the energy from my soul,” I told him. “You did it once before, with Bobby.” I thought back to the episode of my show where Cas had needed to siphon off some of Bobby’s energy so that he could heal himself and still have the strength to pull Sam and Dean through time. Never before was I so glad to have the show’s knowledge at my disposal. “Do the same to me.”

Cas shook his head weakly. “No,” he whispered. “I won’t- won’t do that t-to you.”

“That wasn’t a request,” I hissed. I brought his hand up so that it rested on my stomach. “Now.”

Cas seemed to be fighting it, searching for another way. After a long moment he seemed to have realized that there was no other option, because he gave me the most apologetic look I’d ever seen on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Then he shoved his hand into my abdomen, and my world exploded in pain.

I couldn’t help my scream, automatically looking down at my stomach. I half expected to see a dagger sticking out of my flesh. But it was only Cas’s hand, a bright white light surrounding it, and there were no blood seeping through his fingers. No guts that needed to be shoved back inside me. 

Cas began to withdraw his hand at my scream, and I roughly pressed my hand to his, holding him in place. As my life force flooded through him he gave up all attempts of pulling away, simply giving in to the waves of energy that were flooding over him. 

And then it was over. As Cas pulled away my muscles turned to jelly, and I collapsed to the ground next to him. My hands came up to cradle my abdomen, and I whimpered as the last of my agony faded away.

“Lucy.”

My eyes opened to meet worry filled blue ones. Cas was sprawled on his side beside me, and one of his hands came up to brush my hair out of my face. My gaze moved down to his stomach; he had healed himself.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

Was I ok? Was he joking? He’d almost just died, and he was asking if I was ok? I was torn between laughing and slapping him. In the end I decided on neither.

I grabbed Cas by the tie and pulled him forward, and our lips met in a nearly hysterical kiss. Cas seemed shocked, but a moment later his lips began to move against mine, and as his hands came to brace themselves on the ground on either side of my head I tangled my fingers in his hair.

Eventually I pulled myself away, gasping for breath.

“Don’t do that to me again,” I hissed.

Cas’s face wrinkled in confusion as he pushed himself off me. “Do what?” he asked. “Did you not like that?” Fear began to take over his face, and I groaned.

“No!” I shifted so that we were sitting, glaring at Cas. “I meant almost dying on me, you idiot.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t help but feel giddy at the relief that passed over Cas’s face. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” My screech hurt even my ears. “You’re sorry? Cas, you nearly died. You don’t get to say sorry!”

“Then what do I say?” he asked.

“I don’t think Lucy would know,” Sam commented dryly. “Her go-to is ‘hey’. I think I prefer ‘sorry’.”

I sent Sam a scowl that he ignored as he dropped to his knees beside Cas, pulling him into a hug. 

“You had us worried, man,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” came Cas’s response.

“Dude, are you alright?” Dean’s eyes were filled with worry as he skidded to a stop beside us, having just finished with the last demon. As Cas nodded Dean grabbed him in the kind of hug that could only come from a big brother who had been panicking about his little brother. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Come on.” Sam stood, reaching down to pull me to my feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

Cas shook his head. “I need to find my siblings,” he objected.

“Cas, any other angels that were here have either fled or been killed,” Dean pointed out. “And you’re in no shape to be tromping through the woods. Let’s go.”

Cas seemed reluctant, but finally nodded. “Alright,” he said.

Dean pulled Cas to his feet, then quickly caught the angel as his knees buckled. He slung Cas’s arm over his shoulder. 

Sam took the lead as we started back upstream, and I couldn’t help a groan at the steep uphill climb that was waiting for us. I paused before we started the climb though, moving to yank an angels’ blade from the grip of one of the demons on the ground. I wasn’t going to get caught weaponless again.

Going uphill was a lot harder than going downhill, especially when probably half your energy had just been siphoned off. Not that I wasn’t glad that I’d given Cas my strength; he’d needed it. But I still was not enjoying the hike back up the hill.

Sam turned back to check on us, a frown forming on his face. I was sure he’d expected Dean and Cas to have fallen behind; Cas could barely walk and Dean wasn’t exactly having an easy time lugging both himself and the angel up the slope, but he probably hadn’t expected to see me nearly as far back as the pair staggering uphill behind me.

He reached back to help me, and I waved away his hand. 

“I’m fine,” I panted. 

Sam frowned and slowed until he was beside me, then curled his arm around my waist and all but dragged me uphill with him. Behind me I could feel the intensity of Cas’s worried stare as he saw that Sam was helping me.

Even with Sam and Dean helping us, it took us a long time to get back to the car. By then we were all out of breath, and we collapsed gratefully into the cool leather seats. Dean locked the doors once we were all in; we weren’t sure if there were more demons around.

He cast a glance around the car several minutes later, taking in the blood and mud that covered all four of us. “There’s no chance we can check into a motel like this,” he stated. He traded looks with Sam. “We’ll have to take turns driving back to the bunker.”

Sam nodded. “Do you want me to go first?” he asked.

Dean shook his head. “I’m good for now.” 

I rolled my eyes; when all else failed, Dean would always be the protective older brother.

I stifled a yawn. By now I was completely devoid of energy. I glanced over to Cas, who was barely keeping his eyes open. I was momentarily worried, then remembered that angels did, when weakened, sleep. And Cas definitely deserved a rest.

“Wake me when we get there,” I called. 

Dean chuckled in amusement as I shifted in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position. For some reason, that comfortable position seemed to involve leaning against Cas.

He didn’t seem to mind, raising his arm just enough for me to snuggle against his side. I allowed him to shift into a more comfortable position before rearranging myself against him, clenching my hands into his trench coat the way I often clutched at my blankets. Within moments I was asleep.


	20. Well, That Got Intense Quickly

I slowly blinked my eyes open, feeling groggy. I turned my head lazily from side to side as I stretched, taking in the familiar setting of my room in the bunker. I glanced at the clock; it read **1:30 pm**. 

How long was I asleep?

I pushed myself up, groaning at the headache that was starting, and looked down at myself. I was wearing my mud and blood covered clothes from the mountains, and as I remembered what had transpired I collapsed back into bed with a moan.

Well, the good news was Cas was ok. I thought back to how he’d looked when we’d gotten in the car. Though barely awake, he’d looked far healthier than when we’d first found him at the edge of the river. His skin had been warm with life, his arms strong as he’d pulled me against him. The memory of his arm around my waist brought a fluttering to my stomach.

Which of course lead me to the hard part.

Was I in love with Cas? If my thoughts and actions from the mountains were anything to go by I was. But I hadn’t even been aware of the fact. I mean sure, I had this habit of falling in love with the stoic, hero type fictional characters on the TV shows I used to watch, but it was really more of a crush. A crush that I’d allowed myself to have since I’d known the characters were fictional. _Actually,_ I thought to myself, _several crushes, but that’s not the point._ It was the type of crush that Eowyn had held for Aragorn, even when she’d known he was out of her reach. 

I had quickly pushed aside the crushes I’d developed for all three Winchesters when they’d burst into my high school. I’d known that I couldn’t let a silly crush cloud my mind, not when I’d had a wormhole to search for. By the time we’d gotten to their universe, my feelings for Sam and Dean had evolved into the type of love that one held for her older brothers, and though I’d never stopped to consider my feelings for Cas, I’d always assumed they were the same.

Apparently they weren’t.

I thought back over my interactions with Cas since we’d met. How he’d chased after me that night in the fields, then let me sob all over him. How he had constantly checked in on me once I’d gotten trapped in this universe, and his determination to keep me from ‘fading away,’ as he’d put it.

Yes, I decided. With behavior like that, typical of the knight in shining armor, it would be easy to fall in love with Cas. Or at least to let my crush develop into something mistakable for love.

So was it real? And even if it was, did Cas reciprocate it? With the way he’d looked at me during the picnic the idea was certainly plausible, but I knew better than to trust the memory. I could easily be seeing into things that weren’t there, wishing for feelings that Cas didn’t have.

I would need to ask him. Which was bound to be an awkward conversation. After that, we’d need to figure out what to do. If he didn’t have feelings for me I would have to forget about the whole thing, but if not we’d have to discern just how deep our emotions ran. 

Yeah, this was going to be difficult.

I sighed and pushed myself up. Before I could do any of that I needed to get out of bed. I needed a shower. Possibly some aspirin. 

I stripped the sheets off my bed after I’d gotten dressed. They were covered in mud, and bits of blood that had dried on my skin had flaked off in the blankets. It wasn’t pretty. I paused once I’d redressed the bed. What should I do next? Part of me wanted to find Sam and Dean, knowing they’d probably be worried about me. But I also wanted to avoid them for the same reason. Surely they’d have questions, questions that I didn’t have the answers to.

I also wanted to check on Cas. Even though he’d looked much better than when we’d found him when we’d fallen asleep together in the car, I still felt an urge to make sure he was still alive. I couldn’t get the image of his limp body cradled in my arms out of my head.

That settled it. With memories of the river flooding through my head, I had to make sure he was ok. I found Cas in one of the spare rooms of the bunker, sprawled out in the bed that was pushed against the wall. Like me, he hadn’t changed out of his blood soaked clothes, and though he had long since dried from his dip in the river, his trench coat had stiffened and crinkled under him. 

I leaned in the doorway as I studied him. The lights were out in the room, so the only light was that which leaked in from the hall. It threw Cas into shadows, bringing his skin back to the ghostly complexion it had been at the river, and I felt panic rising in me. It was only when I saw that he was breathing steadily that I forced myself to calm down.  
He was alive. Weak still, given the fact that he hadn’t woken up, but alive.

I found myself sinking against the wall, unable to leave the room. There I curled up as I watched him, studying the rise and fall of his chest, the way his hair fell over his face. As I sat there I felt my worry about him abate, yet I still didn’t move. I was comfortable enough where I was, and I still needed to work out my feelings. My thoughts were interrupted as Sam and Dean slipped into the room.

“Hey.” Dean slipped down the wall to sit to my left, and we scooted over to make room for Sam to sit on my right. “How’re you feeling?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Why do you guys keep asking me that?” I asked. “I’m fine.”

Beside me Sam smiled in amusement at my annoyance. “You’re our little sister,” he told me. “It’s our job to worry about you.”

I felt tears come to my eyes as I looked up at him. I’d assumed for a long time that they looked at me as a sort of sister, but to hear it spoken out loud, and as if it were the most obvious of facts touched my heart.

Dean chuckled and draped his arm around me. “Family doesn’t end in blood,” he reminded me.

I nodded. “I know,” I whispered. I allowed myself to relax against them. “Still, it’s just…” I trailed off. How was I supposed to express how much their statements had touched me?

They chuckled softly. “We know,” Sam said. He rubbed my shoulder soothingly, and I realized I didn’t need to say anything. Not this time.

I looked over to Cas. “Has he been asleep this whole time?” I asked.

Sam and Dean followed my gaze, their expressions darkening ever so slightly with worry.

“He sort of woke up long enough to stumble inside,” Dean said. “But other than that yeah. You two have been out a day and a half, counting the car ride home.”

“Really?” I looked back and forth between Sam and Dean, and they nodded. “Wow.”

Sam chuckled. “We don’t mind,” he said. “You needed the rest.” At this he pulled away slightly to study my face. “Do you wanna tell us what’s been going on with you?”

I sighed. I hadn’t been sleeping well the past few days after Sam’s birthday, and I hadn’t slept at all since my picnic with Cas. I’d been too worried. That, I knew they understood. It was my reluctance to sleep before then that had them worried.

“It’s nothing,” I said. “I’ve just had things on my mind.”

“What things?” asked Dean. Now he was inspecting my face as well. “Lucy, if something’s going on, let us know. We can help.”

I shrugged. How was I supposed to tell them that it wasn’t something they could help with? That I had to work through my nightmares by myself? Besides, I had a feeling that if I told them about my issues, they’d try to keep me from hunting, and _that_ wasn’t going to happen.

“It’s nothing,” I repeated. “I’m fine. Really.”

Dean sighed. Clearly he wasn’t happy, but based on the look Sam shot him over my shoulder I was guessing Sam had warned him not to push me. 

“What happened at the river the other day?” asked Sam. 

I felt panic run up my spine. Had they seen the kiss? What would they think? I still wasn’t sure what I thought!

I pushed down my fears. They hadn’t brought it up, and though that didn’t mean they didn’t know, it didn’t mean that they did. I quickly filled them in on what had happened, leaving out the kiss. There was no need for me to volunteer the information.

After I finished talking Sam and Dean were quiet, and I gave them a few minutes to process what I had said. They were still thinking when Cas began to stir, his eyes fluttering open. My breath caught, and he must have heard, for his head turned to the side and blue eyes locked onto me.

“Hey,” I whispered. I felt like I should move, like I should help him sit or something, but my muscles refused to budge.

“Hey,” Cas responded, his voice just as low as mine. He sat up, and I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes never left mine. In the dark room they twinkled with- something. I wasn’t sure what.

“How do you feel?” Dean stood, hovering anxiously over Cas like the mother hen that he was. 

Cas thought for a moment. “Better,” he said finally.

“But still not good?” Sam guessed. 

With reluctance Cas nodded.

Dean grimaced in sympathy. “A shower might help,” he suggested. 

I chuckled as Dean crinkled his nose at Cas’s blood stained clothes. 

“Ok,” Cas agreed. 

Dean nodded and started to back out, and Sam and I stood to follow. I paused in the doorway. Should I ask Cas about his feelings? I shook my head slightly. He’d just woken up. I could wait.

Sam and Dean quickly forced me to the dining room table, and Dean got started on making something for us to eat. I had a feeling that since they didn’t know what was going on with me, they were just going to mother over me until either I felt better or I told them what was going on.

By the time Cas joined us in the dining room I had finished eating, and he stood uncertainly at the edge of the room until Dean ushered him to the table. He ended up sitting at the head of the table. Past the table corner to his right sat Sam and Dean, and I was to his left. 

“So…” Sam drew out the word. “What happened?”

“What do you know?” Cas asked.

“We know you popped by the bunker, then ran off all worried about something,” Dean stated. “Then we tracked your phone and found a cabin full of dead angels. What the hell happened there?”

Cas’s eyes had flickered over to me when Dean brought up his visit to the bunker, evidently confused as to why I hadn’t told them about the picnic, but I shook my head ever so slightly. He turned his attention back to Sam and Dean’s questions.

“I heard one of my siblings,” Cas told us. “He was calling for help; he was being attacked by demons. Or so I thought. I went to where he’d said he was, but found myself in a cabin with a trapping sigil painted on the wall.” He looked back and forth between us. “Do you know what those are?”

Sam nodded. “We saw it,” he informed. 

Cas nodded and continued. “There were already many angels in the room; I wasn’t sure how many. I tried to get to the door before I lost consciousness, but it had been locked.” Cas’s eyes took on a faraway look as he recalled the events of that day. “The next thing I remember is waking up amid chaos. One of the angels must have been able to damage the sigil, and we all woke up at once.” He shook his head. “Many died while we were trying to escape; though the sigil didn’t take our powers, it temporarily bound our wings so that we couldn’t fly away. I followed one of my brothers outside, but the demons caught us at the edge of the river. They wounded me and I fell in the water. I don’t know what happened to him.”

We took a minute to process what Cas had said. Sam’s guess had been pretty close the other day, but it was still a bit overwhelming to have it confirmed.

“You said you don’t think anymore that the angel who called you all there was being attacked,” I stated. “Why?”

Cas’s face darkened. “The sigil,” he said. “Your men of letters books might have information on angel sigils; I expect that’s how you knew what it was, but other than that only angels know our runes. No demon would have known how to draw that sigil.”

“So there’s an angel working with the demons?” I asked. 

Cas nodded slowly. 

“Why? And what are they up to?”

Cas shook his head. “I don’t know,” he admitted. 

“I don’t like not knowing,” Dean commented dryly. 

Beside him Sam nodded, looking troubled.

“Why would they take angels out of the room?” I asked. 

When Cas looked at me in confusion I elaborated. 

“In the living room of the hut, the angels we found had their hands tied behind their backs and their throats slit. If they’d been unconscious in the other room with you, why would the demons take the time to tie them up and drag them out? Wouldn’t that have woken them?”

Cas nodded, that familiar crease settling between his brows as he thought. “The only thing I can think of,” he said finally, “is that our graces can’t be extracted unless we’re awake.”

I shuddered. 

“The demons are after angel grace?” asked Sam. “Why?”

I gasped, a horrifying idea occurring to me. “Hold on,” I said. I ran out of the room, ignoring the perplexed stares of the boys, and went for the library. There I rummaged through the shelves. Where was that damn book?

“Here!” I grabbed it from the shelf and ran back to where the others sat, throwing myself back in my chair as I rifled through the pages. When I found what I was looking for I glanced up at the others, the blood draining from my face. “This is not good,” I said.

“What?” Dean grabbed the book from me, scanning Jane Newberry’s neat cursive with ever widening green eyes. At last he leaned back and allowed Sam to seize the book from him. “Shit,” he commented.

As soon as Sam was done he passed Cas the book, and the angel’s face paled as he read the information himself. As he finished I took it back from him.

It was perhaps the biggest secret Anna had ever told Jane. It was something only those angels very high up in the ranks of heaven knew, one that I suspected even Cas hadn’t been aware of. Apparently, if a person took enough grace into their body, say from hundreds of angels, they would become a god. And not some cheap rip off that could explode some heads like Cas had done when he’d absorbed all the souls of purgatory. This was enough power to tear apart the very fabric of reality.

“How many angels have died so far?” Sam asked. 

Cas shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he responded. “Many. Even more than before; I doubt my capture was the only trap they sprung. There were several calls for help at the same time.”

“Which means there are several angels that’ve gone rogue,” I pointed out. “Do you know who?”

Cas shook his head. “Their minds were off sync with the rest of us; I couldn’t discern an identity. None of them said who they were.”

“We need to figure out how many have been killed,” I said. “How many angels’ graces do you think they need before they can turn a demon into a god?”

“This says hundreds,” Dean said. “How many angels are there?”

“Thousands.” I could see the gears turning in Cas’s mind as he spoke.

“And we have no idea which ones have gone rogue,” said Sam.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why would angels want demons to be able to build their own god? Even they should be able to realize that won’t end well.”

Dean shrugged. “They’re probably all playing each other. The demons are planning to use the angels’ knowledge to build their god, and the angels are gonna have the demons do all the dirty work for them, then take all the grace for themselves.”

I groaned. There were so many bad ways this could end. “We gotta figure out who’s involved and shut it down.”

Dean nodded and turned to Cas. “From this point forward, assume all angels are dirty. The three of us,” he gestured around the table as he spoke, “are the only ones you can trust. Got it?”

Cas nodded. “Got it,” he repeated.

Sam stood. “Let’s go see what we’ve got in the library,” he suggested. He looked over to Cas. “How are you feeling?”

Cas seemed to realize what he was leading up to. “I’ll go to each trap and find out how many died there,” he told Sam.

“Hold on.” I stood, panic beginning to set in. “You’re weak. You just woke up. You can’t go running off now, and definitely not to places where you know there are probably going to be demons.”

“The demons will be gone by now,” Cas reasoned.

“You don’t know that!” I threw my hands up in the air. “Am I the only one here with any common sense?”

Cas frowned. “I have to find out how many graces have been taken,” he stated.

“Then I’m coming with you.” I held my hand up to silence the objections that Sam and Dean were about to voice. “If it’s really safe enough for you to be going then it’s safe enough for me to go too. And even if it’s not, you’ll have better chances with backup. I can fight. I can handle myself.” This last bit was said with a glare in Dean’s direction.

Cas shook his head. “No,” he objected. “I won’t bring you into a trap.”

“Then you’re not going either,” I stated. “If it’s really that dangerous then neither of us should be going.”

“But we need to know-” Sam started. 

To my surprise it was Dean who cut him off.

“No,” he said. “Lucy’s right. You’re still weak. Let’s wait a few days for you to recover, then we’ll all go together. I doubt the demons will try to hide any of the bodies, so the only thing that will have changed will be the stench.”

I wrinkled my nose at his mention of rotting flesh, but nodded my agreement. Sam sighed, recognizing it as the best course of action. We all looked to Cas. He didn’t look happy at the idea of bringing us into a dangerous situation, but he too nodded his agreement.

“Good.” Dean headed for the door. “Now let’s go to the library.” He paused and shot Cas a glare. “And if I catch you running off I’ll kick your ass myself,” he warned.

I pressed my lips together to hide my smile as Dean stomped out of the room, followed by Sam. Cas remained where he was by the table, and I started to follow Sam and Dean when he grabbed my arm.

“Wait,” he said quietly. He released my arm but I stayed where I was, watching his expression as he turned to me. It was guarded, but underneath I could see a hint of fear.

“Something is worrying you,” he said. “Something about the picnic. Why didn’t you tell the others?”

I sighed. “Cas, this really isn’t the time,” I objected. I had been so tied into the whole angel grace thing that I had nearly forgotten about my confusion over my feelings for Cas, but at his words everything came flooding back.

Cas seemed to have read this in my eyes. He shook his head softly, his blue eyes probing mine. “Something is troubling you,” he objected. “There is no other time.”

I bit my lip, pulling my gaze away from his. How was I going to word this? I was tempted to just run to the library; I was pretty sure Cas would resist asking me anything while Sam and Dean were in the room. But no, I couldn’t do that. Cas was right to some degree, I did need to work out what was going on in my head. And while I didn’t feel that it was more important than the grace crisis, he seemed to disagree.

“What’s going on between us?” I asked. “I mean, to most people a picnic signifies a date. Is that what it was?”

Something flickered across Cas’s face, but then it returned to its previous blank state. “Is that what you want it to be?” he asked.

I felt my face grow hot. “I don’t know,” I admitted. Suddenly everything in my head seemed to just pour out, because I found myself spilling everything. “I don’t know what’s going on! All I know is that when I’m with you everything is nice, and then you ran off and I was so worried about you, and I was thinking the worst, and I started to have these thoughts that maybe there was something going on between us, only I have no idea what! Is there something going on between us? Because I honestly don’t know.”

Cas gulped. “What do you feel?” he asked me.

I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I moaned. “I don’t know anything.”

I hadn’t even realized he’d stepped forward until he was right in front of me. “I know that you make me happy when I’m near you,” he said. His voice was husky as he took my hands in his. “I know that I worry about you. I know that you have the most-”

“If you say the words beautiful soul I will hit you,” I warned.

The corner of Cas’s mouth twitched up. “I know you’re amazing,” he amended. “And I know that this felt very nice.”

I was about to ask what _this_ was when his lips pressed themselves to mine. I was shocked at first, but then I realized that I had responded automatically, my mouth moving against his. As I recovered I allowed myself to get pulled deeper into the kiss, and my fingers came up to tangle themselves in his hair. His hands came to brace against my back, and I found that I rather liked their pressure there.

Then someone cleared their throat, and we jerked apart. I turned to see Sam and Dean in the entrance to the dining room, staring at us in shock. As the realization that we’d been caught sank in I felt heat rise to my cheeks. 

_Shit._


	21. Out in the Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've posted. Hope you enjoy the chapter.  
> Merry Christmas guys! Or if you don't celebrate Christmas Happy Hanukkah or Kwanzaa! If you celebrate something that I didn't name I'm sorry I didn't, but I hope you enjoyed it as well!

“Uhhh.” Sam glanced back and forth between Dean, Cas, and I, seeming unsure what to say. Beside me Cas was blushing several shades of red, and I was sure I was as well. I gulped nervously, stuffing my hands into my pockets. What were we going to do?

Dean was the first to say anything logical. “What the hell?” he asked.

I gulped again. “It’s a bit difficult to explain,” I started.

Dean frowned. “A bit?” he asked. “I’d say. Since when are you two-” he cut off and resorted to making joining signals with his hands. Despite myself, I had to press my lips together to hide my smile of amusement at Dean’s floundering.

“Lucy and I were just discussing our feelings for each other,” Cas said. 

“Discussing?” As Dean’s voice rose to an unnaturally shrill volume I winced.

I shot Cas a quick glare over my shoulder. “Not helping,” I hissed.

“Sorry.” Cas gave me an apologetic smile and I nodded. I couldn’t really be mad; he’d only been trying to help. Even if he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

To be honest, none of us knew what we were doing. This became all the more clear as Dean’s eyes raked back and forth between Cas and I, and suddenly he turned away. “No,” he said. “I’m not dealing with this.”

I frowned as he fled, and I chased him down the hallway, running in my effort to catch up with his strides. “Where are you going?” I called.

“Out!” Dean disappeared around the corner and I skidded to a stop, shocked by the hostility in his voice.

A moment later I shook myself. Dean wasn’t in the right frame of mind to drive, and I didn’t want to take a chance that he crashed the car. Especially since I was sure he would soon be drunk. High emotions and liquor didn’t mix well.

I started forward again, but Sam caught my arm. “Let him go,” he cautioned me. 

I looked to where Dean had disappeared, uncertain, but then I nodded unhappily; if Sam thought his brother would be fine I had to trust him. He did know Dean better than I did.

Cas was standing in the dining room still, looking uncertain as to what to do. I went to stand sheepishly next to him, feeling like I was waiting for a scolding from the school principle. 

Sam studied us through hooded eyes, and eventually let out a long sigh. “Alright,” he said. “What’s going on here?” Then he held up his hand. “I think we should do this one by one,” he amended. He gestured for Cas to get out. “Lucy first.”

Cas obediently left the room, and Sam waited patiently for me to start to speak. I floundered. What was I supposed to say? I still wasn’t sure what was going on! Cas had sort of cut off my inquiry with his kiss. Not that I hadn’t enjoyed the kiss- no. That wasn’t the point. I needed to find a way to explain things to Sam.

“It’s complicated,” I started. 

Sam chuckled dryly. “I kinda figured,” he commented. “It always is with us.” He moved to the table and pulled out a chair, settling into it. Reluctantly I sat next to him. “Is this what’s been bothering you lately?” he asked me.

I hesitated. This was my way out. I could easily say yes, that this was all that had been on my mind. Sam would believe me, and he wouldn’t bug me anymore about my sleepless nights.

But I knew I couldn’t do that. I owed him and Dean the truth. And so I softly shook my head. “No,” I told him. “That’s something else.”

Sam nodded. “I still want to know what that is,” he said, “but I’ll leave it alone for now.” He took a deep breath. “What’s going on between you and Cas?”

I shrugged, feeling the heat return to my face. “I don’t know,” I admitted. I buried my face in my hands, and Sam rubbed my back soothingly.

“It’s ok,” he promised. “Just start at the beginning.”

I groaned. What was the beginning? It took several minutes for me to respond, during which time Sam didn’t say a word.

“I wasn’t completely honest about the other day,” I said finally. “Cas didn’t just pop by the bunker.”

From there I told him everything. I told him about Cas’s worry for me, and his reasoning behind it- though I still didn’t mention my nightmares- then moved to his disappearance two days earlier. I jumped to my realization that my feelings for the angel were more than platonic during our frenzied investigation at the river, then told Sam of my confusion about the whole matter. He listened intently the whole time, nodding occasionally but making no comment. I finished with the kiss that he and Dean had walked in on, then settled back in my chair as I waited for Sam to respond.

His eyes had a faraway look as he contemplated, and I wasn’t sure what to make of his lack of response. Was he upset? How much so? I couldn’t figure out what was going through his head.

Sam looked over and met my eyes at last, and he offered me a small smile. I felt myself relax slightly. Surely if he was angry he wouldn’t have smiled. I had to make sure though.

“Are you upset?” I whispered. 

Sam took a moment to think, then shook his head.

“No,” he promised. “It was just a shock. I wasn’t expecting it.” He laughed shortly. “I _really_ wasn’t expecting it.” 

Despite myself I smiled. “Sorry,” I offered.

Sam shook his head. “It’s ok.” He studied me intently. “So, what are you going to do?”

I sighed. “I have to talk with Cas,” I told him. “Hopefully he won’t sidetrack me again.” 

At my word choice Sam chuckled, and I allowed myself a small smile. 

“What about Dean?” I asked. “How mad do you think he is?”

Sam sighed. “He’s not mad,” he said at last. “He was just shocked. Dean doesn’t handle stuff like this well.” Sam gestured to me to indicate my complicated relationship with Cas and I nodded. “Give him a demon or two and he’ll be fine. But emotions?” Sam crinkled his nose, and I laughed.

Sam took my hand. “Give him time,” he told me. “He’ll come around. He just needs some time to process things.”

I nodded, feeling suddenly emotional. “Thanks,” I whispered. 

Sam nodded and drew me into a hug, and I buried my face in his shoulder.

“Now.” Sam drew me away and shot me what could only be described as an evil grin. “You mentioned having crushes on some of the characters on your TV shows. Was I one of them?”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. “Do you really want to know that?” I asked. _This is not happening. I cannot deal with this._

Sam thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yep,” he said. “I want to know.” He grinned at me, and I felt heat flood my cheeks.

“Nope!” I stood up and turned away. “Not happening! I am not having this discussion with you!”

I ignored Sam’s guffaws as I stormed out of the room. “Cas,” I called. “Your turn!”

Cas turned the corner, a questioning look in his blue eyes. I shook my head softly, and he nodded. He would ask me how my interrogation went later. As he passed me his fingers brushed against mine, parting what comfort they could.

Back in my room I threw myself on my bed, burying my face in my pillow. With the exception of Sam’s last question, everything had gone surprisingly well. Not that I was kidding myself thinking that everything was solved, but maybe it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought.

I curled up on my side as I thought. I still needed to talk to Dean, and I had no idea where I stood with Cas, but Sam at least seemed to be fine with things. Either that or he was a damn good liar.

I sighed. I didn’t need this. We didn’t need this. There was some sort of chaos going on between heaven and hell, some new chaos, that is, and we had to figure out what. I couldn’t spend my time worrying about if I’d upset Dean with my secret- what was Cas? My boyfriend? Somehow the words didn’t quite seem right. Not when I didn’t know how we felt for each other.

Which was another distraction that I didn’t need at this time. From what I knew of Sam and Dean’s lives I knew that relationships were a bad idea. People got hurt, people got killed, and in the end the boys always ended up alone.

My brooding was interrupted as Cas moved silently into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. I glanced up at him, not bothering to move from where I was.

“How’d it go?” I asked.

Cas frowned. “Sam didn’t seem too upset,” he commented. “What about with you?”

I shrugged. “Same.” I inspected Cas’s face, watching as he nodded slowly. My eyes narrowed; he wasn’t telling me something. “What is it?” I asked.

Cas shot me an uncertain look. “He said that he thinks of me as a brother, but if I hurt you he’ll kick my ass.” Cas turned to look at me, gauging my reaction.

I blinked once, twice, then burst into giggles. As I snorted in amusement Cas chuckled, then a wide smile spread across his face. At last I settled against my pillows, still giving the occasional chuckle.

Cas inspected my face. “Do you want to talk?” he asked.

I considered for a moment, then shook my head. I knew I needed to figure out where we stood, but I just didn’t have the energy at that time. I needed to work things out in my own head before I attempted to talk with Cas again. “Later,” I promised. 

Cas nodded and stood, sensing that I wanted to be alone. “I’ll be with Sam if you need me,” he said. 

I nodded, and he slipped out the door.

I returned to my musings, ignoring the headache that was beginning to form behind my eyes. After some time I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I was aware of was Dean shaking my shoulder gently.

“Hey,” he whispered. He stood next to my bed, watching me sadly. I stretched, ignoring the worry gnawing at my mind. Was he still angry?

“Hey,” I whispered back. I slid over in bed, and Dean sprawled out next to me. His arm came to pull me to his side, and I buried my face into him. Somehow the position felt natural, as if I had spent my whole life running to curl up with him when I was upset. My big brother Dean.

It took several minutes for Dean to speak again. When he did he pulled away slightly to see my face. “I’m sorry I ran off like that,” he said.

I shook my head. “S’ok,” I muttered. I offered him a small smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Dean sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “No,” he said. “You don’t need to be sorry.” He paused before looking down at me again. “Sam told me what you told him.”

I nodded, waiting to see what he would say. He watched me with unreadable eyes, eventually hugging me closer to him. 

“Look,” he started. “I don’t care what you and Cas do, but you need to figure out what you’re going to do. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

I nodded against his chest. I’d been trying to figure out what to do for the past day, and I wasn’t any closer to a solution. I didn’t need Dean to tell me what I already knew. 

Dean seemed to realize this, because he sighed. “Let’s forget about it,” he offered. He shifted position so that he could look at my face. “Lucy,” he murmured. “What’s been going on with you?”

I sighed. He wasn’t going to let this go. “I’m fine,” I told him. 

Dean shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

I glared up at him. “I don’t really care if you believe it or not. I’m fine!”

Dean chuckled, seeming pleased that I’d summoned up the energy to yell at him. “Tell me,” he stated. “And then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

I groaned. “Somehow I doubt that,” I muttered. But I knew I couldn’t continue to hide what was going on from him. And maybe he could help. He and Sam had both gone to hell, Dean had been to purgatory, and who knows what else they’d gone through on their quest to restore heaven and lose the mark of Caine. 

Well, when I put it like that, my own nightmares seemed silly. I’d thought that often, but just like the other times I pushed down my condescending thoughts. Just because they’d made it through all that didn’t make my own struggles menial. You couldn’t measure your own problems based on how rough other people had it. 

“I’ve been having nightmares,” I said finally. I looked down as I spoke, avoiding Dean’s gaze. “About the people I’ve killed.”

Dean frowned. “What people?” he asked. “Did you have a bunch of bodies buried in your backyard at home that I don’t know about?”

I chuckled, only slightly amused by his joke. “No. The monsters.” I grimaced; clearly once Dean put something on his to-kill list, he no longer viewed it as a person. It was something that I’d been having trouble doing.

“I’m just having a bit of trouble with the whole killing part,” I told him. “And I know the monsters we kill deserve it; they hurt innocent people, but I just need to adjust to it.”

Dean nodded. “I never really had that problem,” he admitted. 

I nodded; I’d kinda figured.

“Sam might be able to help you with that,” Dean said. “He had a hard time with it.”

“Didn’t his method of coping involve college?” I asked.

Dean laughed. “You make it sound like school’s a bad thing.”

I grunted. “Spend one day in my old physics class,” I challenged him. “Just one class.”

Dean chuckled. “No thanks.” 

We laughed for a minute, until we faded into silence. 

“Is that it?” he asked.

I sighed. “I never told you what happened the night I got possessed,” I admitted.

Dean looked like he wanted to say I didn’t have to talk about it if I didn’t want to, but then he reconsidered. We both knew I needed to talk about it. Even though Cas had helped me to settle things in my head, I still felt guilty for keeping what had happened from Sam and Dean. It was time for everything to come out in the open.

And so I told him. Dean didn’t say anything as I described the attack in my motel room, though he flinched when I reached the part where the demon took possession of me. As I detailed the torture of the old woman in the apartment Dean’s face paled, and he hugged me to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” His shoulders began to shake. “I should’ve been there.”

“No.” I pulled away, catching Dean’s eyes with my own. “You couldn’t have known any of it was going to happen. It wasn’t your fault.”

Dean shook his head, letting out a curt laugh. “I was the one who insisted you stay all the way on the other side of the city,” he told me. “If I’d been closer-”

“Stop.” I reached out and snagged Dean’s hand, and he met my eyes at last. His were red rimmed, tears threatening to leak out. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Dean looked like he still disagreed, but all he did was pull me to him in another hug. I returned it eagerly, knowing that it was as much for his benefit as it was for mine.

Eventually Dean pulled back, offering me a small smile. “Promise me you’ll talk to Sam about your nightmares?” he asked. 

I nodded, and he smiled and stood. “Good. Come on, let’s get to the library. We’ve got work to do.”

I followed him down the hall, and we made our way to the library. Sam and Cas were already there, leafing through the many shelves as they searched for anything that even had the word ‘angel’ in it.

Sam smiled in greeting, his eyes flickering between Dean and I. Dean nodded that we were good and sat down, pausing just long enough to clap Cas on the back. They must have talked already.

Cas stood with a stack of books in his arms, and he quickly set them down, watching me with cloudy blue eyes. I disappeared into the next aisle, knowing he would follow.

“Are you alright?” 

I turned to see him coming up behind me, watching me warily. I took a deep breath, maintaining a foot or so of distance between us least he try to distract me again.

“What are we Cas?” At the look on his face I sighed. “We never did work that out. What are we doing here?”

Cas frowned. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

I ran my hand through my hair, pushing back the few curls that had escaped my ponytail. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “What do you want?”

Cas looked uncertain. “I- I want-” He stopped for a moment to think. “I don’t know.”

I nodded. “We can’t just jump into this, whatever this is.” I gestured in a wide arc to indicate our confusing as hell feelings for each other. “We gotta take it slow.”

Cas nodded. “How do we do that?” he asked.

I pursed my lips. “We date. We get to know each other. Then we decide if what we have for each other is real.”

Cas thought. “Ok.” 

“Ok?” I raised my eyebrows. “Just ok? Noting else?”

Cas looked at me with mixed wariness and amusement. “Is there supposed to be something else?” he asked. 

I shrugged. “Well _some_ reaction would be nice.” At the playful tone to my voice Cas grinned, and I grinned back at him. Then he must have seen the swirl of emotions behind my eyes, because he pulled me into a hug. I settled happily against him, resting my chin on his shoulder and closing my eyes. He stroked my back comfortingly.

It was a long minute before we pulled away from each other. 

“Are you ok?” he asked. 

I thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah.” My voice was soft, and I took a moment to play with Cas’s fingers as they brushed mine. “Let’s head back to the others.”

Cas followed me to the table where Sam and Dean sat, and we took up chairs in between them. Sam glanced up at us briefly, then went back to the book he was scanning, and Dean dubiously ignored us. I had the feeling that though he was no longer upset with us, he was still having a hard time adjusting to the fact that there was something going on between Cas and I.

Still, as I grabbed a book off the top of one of the many piles, I felt much better than I had before. I had worked out some semblance of a plan with Cas. And yeah, there was still that little voice in the back of my head warning me that I would get hurt, just like everyone Sam and Dean had ever been in a relationship with, but I quickly told the voice to shove it. Those women hadn’t been told that Sam and Dean were hunters, or they had made the mistake of thinking they were unreachable. They didn’t have any training, and had made easy targets for Sam and Dean’s enemies.

I knew what I was getting into. There were no misgivings, no false feelings of security. I already knew what was in the dark, and I had been trained to kill it. I could handle myself.   
Now I just had to handle a bunch of demons and a few rogue angels who were trying to build their own god. Joy.

I sighed as I leafed through the book, settling myself in for what was sure to be a long investigation.


	22. Four Days of Hell... Followed by the King of Hell

We stayed in the library for days. Pouring over the old, dust covered volumes that had been left by the men of letters, Sam, Dean, Cas, and I spent the long hours trying to find a solution to what we were beginning to call the grace crisis. Or, when we were feeling particularly lazy, the GC. 

There was nothing. I’d thought that in all those shelves, there would have been something that we could use. Something to find where the stolen grace was being hidden, or a way to defeat the demons’ homemade god should the worst come to pass. Four days in and I would have been happy with a more specific number as to how many graces needed to be taken. But there was nothing.

I tossed aside yet another useless book, groaning as I leaned back in my chair. I had spent so many hours staring at old book pages that the light that hung above our table hurt my eyes.

“This is useless!” I stood and started to pace, needing to stretch my legs. I also needed an outlet for my frustration. “There’s nothing here.”

“We don’t know that,” Sam said. “We just have to keep looking. 

I glared at him. “We have been looking. We’ve been looking for four days. We’ve gone through half of this library. There’s nothing!”

Dean set down the book he’d been reading. “Maybe we should take a break,” he suggested.

He stood, and I eagerly followed him out of the library, Sam and Cas behind us. Dean led us to the training room, and for once I was eager to go through my usual regime of sit-ups and push-ups.

We spent a couple hours training; we all needed a relief from research. I could tell we were all watching Cas closely, gauging how he was feeling based on how quickly he tired. To our relief, he seemed to be back to his usual self.

Dean was still in the shower when I emerged from my room, and I found Sam alone in the kitchen. He was digging through the pantry for something to cook, and glanced up when I walked in.

“Hey,” he called.

“Hey.” I grabbed an apple and crawled onto the counter, letting my legs swing beneath me. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Sam closed the cabinet door and turned to face me, his face serious as he leaned against the pantry. “Of course. What’s up?”

I sighed. “It’s about what’s been bothering me lately,” 

Sam nodded but remained silent, waiting for me to continue. 

“I’ve been having nightmares,” I told him.

Again Sam waited, but when it became clear I wasn’t continuing he decided to press me a little. 

“What about?” he asked.

I grimaced. “About hunting.” 

I told him about the guilt I was having trouble pushing aside, then related to him my possession, much the same way as I’d done with Dean. Sam kept his face blank as I spoke, occasionally nodding. 

“Dean said that since you used to have a hard time with hunting maybe you could help.” I averted my gaze as I finished, my cheeks reddening. 

Sam pushed off the pantry and came to half sit, half lean on the counter next to me, and I leaned my head down and rested it on his shoulder, closing my eyes.

“It’s difficult,” Sam started. With the way I was leaning on him I could both hear his voice and feel its rumble as he spoke. “I ran off to college; I wanted a normal life.” I felt Sam turn his head towards me slightly. “But you already knew that.”

I nodded, and Sam continued. “It took me four years to get back in the game. When Dean first showed up at my place I didn’t want to go. And when I did I had every intention of coming back and forgetting that I’d left in the first place.” Sam let out a soft sigh as he recalled the death of the girl he’d planned to marry. “Things didn’t quite work out.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Sam shrugged slightly. “It’s not your fault.” Still, he paused a minute, thinking. “That was when I threw myself into hunting. I wanted to find the thing that killed Jess, and I knew that wasn’t going to happen from law school. Plus my dad was still missing, and things just kept getting weirder.” Sam let out a short laugh, remembering the visions that had plagued him.

“How did you cope with it?” I asked. “Wasn’t it hard?”

Sam took a moment to think. “At first,” he admitted. “And not just cos I missed Jess. I was still clinging to that bit of myself that didn’t want to hunt, that wanted to have a normal life. I guess in the end I just realized it wasn’t going to happen. Once I’d accepted that I was able to move on.”

“The killing didn’t bother you?” I asked.

Sam shook his head, his chin conking into my head slightly. “Nah. You gotta remember, I was eight when I found out about this stuff. And I always knew that there was something weird going on. Most parents don’t hand you a gun when you say you’re afraid of the monster under your bed.” 

We laughed. 

“But once I knew, once I really knew what was out there, my dad started having me hunt with him and Dean. They put me on research duty for the most part, but I was killing stuff too. I guess when you start that young it just doesn’t really bother you as much.”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “So what do I do?” I asked.

Sam wrapped his arm around me. “You just gotta give it time,” he suggested. He sighed then. “Lucy, are you sure you want to hunt. You don’t have to. I think we’d all prefer it if you didn’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tough luck,” I shot at him. 

Sam chuckled.

We were silent for a minute. 

“Sam?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still miss her? Jess?”

Sam was silent for a long moment. “No,” he said finally. “I hate that she died, but I moved on a while ago.”

I nodded, and Sam squeezed me to his side in a half hug. “Feel better now?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Sam pushed off the counter so he stood in front of me, planting a kiss softly on top of my head. “Anytime,” he said.

A moment later Cas came into the room, his trench coat swinging behind him. We smiled at each other as he came to a stop just inside the doorway; we still weren’t sure how to act around each other.

Sam saw this and chuckled. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He slipped silently out of the room, leaving Cas and I alone.

I turned to the angel. Now that we were alone we were both slightly less tense. I felt like we were still expecting to get caught together, even though we already had been. This was going to take some getting used to.

Cas looked like he wanted to pull me to him in a hug or maybe even a kiss, but he managed to hold back. Instead he came to lean next to me on the counter, right where Sam had just been. Though he wasn’t nearly as tall, he was nonetheless a nice headrest.

“I think we should go to the trap sites,” Cas told me. 

I thought for a moment. He did seem to have regained his strength, which was one of my biggest fears. With all four of us going we would be able to protect each other even if there was something there. Besides, I had no desire to go back to the library and spend another couple of days rummaging through old tomes for nonexistent answers.

I nodded. “I think we’ll be able to persuade Dean when he comes out,” I answered. 

Cas relaxed slightly under me, and I realized he’d been more nervous about what I would think than he’d been about Dean’s opinion.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked him. “And not just physically, but emotionally. You’re going to do a head count on how many of your siblings have been brutally murdered. It’s not going to be fun.”

Cas nodded. “I’ll be fine,” he promised. “Will you be?”

I rolled my eyes, even though Cas couldn’t see. “I’m always fine,” I reminded him. 

Cas snorted in amusement; we both knew that wasn’t true.

It was several more minutes until Dean got to the dining room. I made Cas wait until after we’d all had something to eat, knowing our chances of persuading Dean would be greater then. He looked reluctant, but after trading looks with Sam that seemed to suffice as a conversation, both brothers nodded their agreement.

“But we stay together,” Dean demanded. “No one wanders off alone, and no stupid risks.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What are we talking about by stupid risks? Are you expecting someone to try and jump off a cliff?”

Dean sent me a scowl. “Just putting it out there,” he said. “Let’s get some weapons, we might as well fly to the sites.” 

I snickered at the unhappy look on Dean’s face at the idea of flying as I went to grab my pocket knife from my bedside table. I had given the angel blade I’d taken from the river to Cas, since he had been relieved of his when he’d gotten caught in the trapping sigil. I settled on bringing a gun loaded with rock salt pellets and a canister of holy water.

We started with the hut in the Adirondacks. The cabin sitting in the woods brought a chilled feeling to me, and I automatically found Cas, checking to make sure he was alright. I half expected to see a red stain spreading across his shirt. The angel was fine, blue eyes scanning nervously around us as Dean pushed the door open.

I pulled out my notebook as the boys went around the hut, counting the numerous bodies scattered around. I jotted down the figures each came back with and then added them up. There were thirty two dead angels, including several that had been killed outside the cabin. 

“Alright,” I said. “But do they all have their throats slit? Cos I’m betting only those had their grace stolen. The others were killed trying to escape.”

Again the boys went around the cabin, and now the number on the notebook page sank to twenty six.

There were five other sites throughout the world. The next on our list was in New Mexico. A set of caves carved into the surrounding desert had provided the perfect place for the demons and rogue angels to lay their trap. Sam and Dean went in first, calling Cas and I to join them once they’d destroyed the sigil painted on the wall of the largest cave. I couldn’t help my gasp as we entered. If I’d thought the cabin was bad, this was so much worse.

I looked over to Cas. His face had paled slightly, and I could see him gulping as he fought back grief and anger. I reached out to gently take his hand, and he squeezed mine gratefully.

After taking a minute to wallow in the devastation in the cave the boys got to work, and again I took down the figures they brought back to me. This time there was no reduction for angels killed trying to escape. They had all fallen to the trap. All seventy eight of them.

“Here.” 

I glanced up from my notebook as Cas approached, holding an angel dagger that he’d found in the cave with the sigil on the wall. 

“You should have this.”

I accepted the knife, looking at Cas. “Why should I have this?” I asked.

Cas frowned, apparently thinking the answer was obvious. “You don’t have a knife of your own,” he reminded me. “Just a rock salt gun. This will work better.”

I smiled, touched by his concern. I wasn’t sure why; I should really have expected it at that point. 

“Thank you.” I tucked the knife into my belt.

Cas nodded, his sapphire eyes dark. I wasn’t sure if that had more to do with the dim lighting of the cave or the emotions that were probably going through his head. Based on the look he was giving me though, the emotions were probably a better guess. He looked sad and tired and protective and oddly enough, happy as he watched me.

Our examinations of each other were interrupted as a fresh set of footsteps sounded outside the cave. We all pulled our knives out as a shadow, one that was around my height and a bit thicker around the waist appeared on the wall. I recognized instantly the demon that entered next.

“Crowley.” Dean’s acknowledgement of the king of hell was more resigned than anything else, as though he’d half expected him to turn up. 

Crowley for his part ignored us all as he scanned around the cave, letting out a small whistle of appreciation. At last he turned his attention to Sam and Dean, who had approached him. I couldn’t help but notice that the boys kept to the other side of the cave, drawing Crowley’s attention away from where Cas and I stood.

“Hello Moose. Hello Squirrel.” 

I pressed my lips together to hide my smile as Sam rolled his eyes. 

“What do you want Crowley?” Dean asked. 

Crowley shrugged.

“Just checking out the place myself. Or did you think you were the only interested party in this whole mess?” Crowley spread an arm out in a wide arc to indicate the grace crisis.

“You’re behind this,” Cas realized. His hand tightened around his dagger, but I put my hand on his to relax it. Somehow I didn’t think that was the case.

“Please.” Crowley scoffed in obvious annoyance. “Even I know better than to try and build a god out of you winged numb-nuts.” For the first time the king’s eyes focused on me, and I couldn’t help my eye roll as Cas shifted to stand in front of me. “Who’s this?” he asked. He turned to Sam and Dean. “Another pet of yours?”

I snorted. “You wish,” I called. I ignored the glares that all three Winchesters shot me, stepping out from behind Cas and taking a step toward Crowley. “I’m the brains behind this operation.”

Dean opened his mouth to object, looking offended, then quickly closed it again. Sam, despite himself, had a twinkle of laughter in his eyes. Crowley snickered. 

“It’s about time,” he told me. “This lot,” he gestured to Sam, Dean, and Cas, “are a bunch of morons!”

I smiled. “I know,” I told him. “Trust me, I know.”

Crowley seemed to like that, because his demeanor became slightly more relaxed. I realized that despite the condescending attitude that he’d at first assumed, he had actually been threatened by me. The thought brought me more glee than it should have. All the same I didn’t lower my knife, keeping my muscles tense. He was after all the king of hell.

“Alright,” Dean interrupted. “Assuming you aren’t in any way behind this, which I don’t believe, why are you here?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I happen to know that making your own god isn’t a good idea. I’m trying to shut it down.” 

I couldn’t help but smile at the demon’s tone of voice. King of hell? More like the king of snark. 

“If you’re not behind this,” Sam asked, “how’d you know?”

Crowley shrugged. “Let’s just say that I found out who one of the demons behind it was and we had a bit of a chat.”

“What did it tell you?” I asked.

Sam, Dean, and Cas all shot me glares, and I rolled my eyes.

“Information is information,” I reminded them.

“Not coming from him,” Cas spat.

“No, he wants this shut down as much as we do,” I objected. “Whoever’s the head of the grace crisis poses a threat to Crowley’s power; he wants whoever this is off the board.” 

Sam nodded. “She’s got a point,” he admitted.

Crowley was now looking at me appraisingly. “I like you,” he commented.

I rolled my eyes, pretending that I felt a lot more confident than I really did. “Everyone likes me. Or they try to kill me.”

“Try?”

I gave the demon king a malice filled grin, twirling my new dagger for him to see. “And fail.”

I had the satisfaction of seeing Crowley gulp.

“Well?” Cas didn’t look at all happy with working with the demon, though frankly I wasn’t thrilled with the idea either. “What do you know?”

Crowley shrugged. “Not much. I know there are a bunch of dead angels lying around, and someone’s stealing their graces so they can build a god. That’s about it, but I’m working on getting more information.”

I resisted the urge to shudder at what I was sure that implied. Now would not be a good time to show weakness. 

“Let us know when you find out something we don’t already know,” Dean said brusquely. He took a step towards me, nudging Sam to follow him, and I sensed our chat with the king was about to end. 

“You seem confident I will,” Crowley commented.

“Like she said, you want this put down as much as we do. You’ll work with us.” 

I couldn’t help but notice how Dean avoided using my name, and hated how the fact actually made me feel slightly better.

“We’re done here,” Cas stated. “We’re leaving.” A moment later he, Sam, and Dean had grouped behind me, and as Cas’s hand came to rest on my shoulder the cave vanished. As we landed at site of the next trap I stuffed my angel blade back into my belt.

Sam turned to me. “You know you can’t trust Crowley, right?” he asked.

I snorted. “Of course. I’m not stupid.” 

This had Sam and Dean looking much happier than before, but Cas still looked like he’d bit into a lemon. I raised an eyebrow in question.

“I don’t like that he knows about you,” he told me.

I shrugged. “It was bound to happen eventually. I’m sort of surprised he didn’t already know.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s a good thing,” Dean commented. 

I rolled my eyes.

“There’s nothing we can do at this point,” Sam argued. 

I shot him a look of thanks, suspecting he’d just saved me from a lecture by Cas and Dean about how I needed to be careful. 

Sam sent me a small smile. “Come on, we’ve got work to do.”

By the time we’d finished we had a total of four hundred and seventeen stolen graces, not counting the individual killings that had been happening over the past months. None of the traps, with the exception of the one Cas had ended up at, had been destroyed. Each had been a slaughter.

We went back to the bunker, and found that none of us were in the mood to return to the library. I guess even Sam and Dean had a limit to how many dead bodies they could see in one day. We all sprawled out in a spare bedroom, much like we had done on New Year’s Eve. Only this time instead of using my jacket as a pillow, I had an angel.

“Are you ok?” I whispered. Our conversations had long since diverged, and Sam and Dean were whispering to themselves a few feet away.

Cas was silent for a moment. “No,” he said at last.

I looked up at him, my cheek brushing his tie. His blue eyes, normally as bright as sapphires under light, were now a dark and stormy blue. Even as he fought to keep his face expressionless I could see the swirl of emotions underneath.

“Talk to me,” I murmured. “That’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Cas sighed, finally meeting my gaze. “I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I don’t know which angels are behind this, so I can’t stop them.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I promised. 

Cas nodded dejectedly, and I knew there was more. 

“What else?” I asked.

“I was the one who wanted the angels to have free will,” Cas told me. “I was the one who always told them to think for themselves, and now they are, and this has happened.” His eyes met mine, and I saw guilt brimming in them. “This is my fault,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “No it’s not.” Cas didn’t seem to believe me, so I pressed on. “Cas, you showed them that they could choose what they did with themselves, but that’s the thing about free will, they make the choices. Not you. You didn’t tell anyone to go and build a god. They did that. That’s on them.”

Cas still didn’t look convinced.

“Listen,” I told him. “This is not your fault. This probably would have happened anyway. It was the angels who let the apocalypse happen, remember? They were already showing signs of free will then. You just sped them along. Sooner or later they would have tried this, no matter what you did.”

“She’s right Cas.” We both looked over as Dean began to talk, apparently having tuned into our conversation. “This isn’t on you.”

Sam nodded. “Let’s focus on solving the grace crisis,” he suggested. “You’re not going to get yourself anything but a headache trying to blame yourself.”

With a frown Cas nodded, and though I sensed he still felt that he deserved some of the blame, he looked like he felt slightly better. I decided that he needed even more of a distraction.

I pushed myself up so that we were lying with our heads next to each other. By now Sam and Dean had returned to their own conversation, and Cas was staring forlornly at the ceiling. As I slid into place next to him he turned his head, and our eyes met. Then, before he could say anything, I pulled him to me in a kiss.

Quickly I got lost in the kiss, and Cas moved so that he was resting on his left arm, his right arm reaching out to pull me to him. We fit well together, folding against each other like pieces of a puzzle. We broke apart as a pillow slammed into us, and we tumbled to the ground on top of each other.

“If you guys are going to do that go to a different room,” Sam called. 

I glanced over, noting the way a grin was threatening at the corner of Sam’s mouth. Dean was shaking his head sadly, but I saw his eyes twinkle. 

I was about to call something back when the pillow soared over my head again, hitting Sam square in the face. As Sam fell back Dean erupted into laughter, and I turned to Cas. The angel was grinning as he lowered his arm again, and as our eyes met we descended into matching snickers.

A moment later our laughter was interrupted as the pillow hit Cas, and I rolled out of the way as he drew back his arm to return fire. Soon an all-out pillow fight had erupted, and we each allowed ourselves to forget- for some time- the outside world.


	23. How to Date an Angel

Days passed. As they went on we grew no closer to finding any sort of answer to the grace crisis. In the end we agreed that Cas would have to go back to heaven to root around. Maybe he could glean something there.

Sam, Dean, and I weren’t at all happy with the idea. We still had no clue which angels were a part of the GC, and knew that they were likely up in heaven, pretending to be as worried as everyone else. Although Cas assured us that he would be safe in heaven, that no angel would dare try anything so near the others, we still worried.

So, after over a week of digging through the library and making calls to Sam and Dean’s few friends to see what they knew, Cas left the bunker to return home. This time, no one yelled at me to stop pacing.

“Do you think he gets cell reception in heaven?” I asked. 

The boys both stopped what they were doing to look at me. Sam was surfing the internet for a case we could work while we waited; Dean was polishing his many weapons.

“Why?” Dean asked.

I scowled. “So we can have him check in with us,” I stated.

Sam sighed. “He can pop into the bunker to do that,” he reminded me.

“Well he hasn’t yet, has he?” I paused in my pacing to shoot Sam a quick glare. “How long does he have to be there for?”

“It’s only been two days,” Dean objected.

Now my glare was deadly. “You’re kidding, right? The last time he was out of sight for two days we found him bleeding to death at the edge of a river. Or don’t you remember that?”

“Lucy, these things take a while,” Sam said. He stood just long enough to press his hands to my arms, effectively pushing me into the nearest chair. “It’s probably going to be a few more days.”

I scowled. “I don’t like it,” I declared.

“None of us do.” Dean set down the knife he had just cleaned. “But it’s gotta be done.”

I scowled again, but didn’t say anything else. There was clearly nothing that could be done, and my grumbling wasn’t getting us anywhere.

After another hour or so Sam found us a case, and though I was reluctant to leave the first place Cas would show up at when he finally returned from heaven, I packed a bag to join Sam and Dean. Not that they didn’t try to get me to stay, using that as an excuse, but I wasn’t getting left out.

The case was in Seattle, a ghost that had latched onto her son, and not in a good way. The old woman had been beyond the ability to care for herself when she’d passed, and had relied on her son to take care of her. He had vastly neglected her, and her ghost had been intent on having revenge. 

The ghost had taken note of every person who came to the funeral service at her son’s house, and she was slowly picking them off, one by one. I suppose she blamed them for not seeing her son for the abuser that he was and getting her away from him. It took Sam, Dean, and I much longer than we would have liked to finish her off, but finally the three of us stood around a flaming grave, hoping that no one drove by the cemetery while we were standing there.

We caught a couple more cases on our way back to the bunker; Sam and Dean insisted we take our time returning to work each case. This, they argued, would give Cas more time to dig around in heaven. Though I was reluctant at first to be away from the bunker for longer than we had to be, I soon found myself enjoying my time- if only slightly. I loved to work cases, and burning a corpse didn’t ignite the same guilty feeling in me as killing a monster did. How were you supposed to feel guilty for killing something that was already dead?

We didn’t hear from Cas at all during the couple of weeks we were traveling, which Sam and Dean insisted was normal. I tried calling him, every night at first, then I gradually faded to every few days. Clearly he was busy.

As usual, the first thing we did when we got back to the bunker was clean out all the rotten food and get some more at the store. As soon as all the groceries were put away Dean dragged us off to the training room, where we spent the rest of the afternoon. 

When I got out of the shower I wrapped myself in a towel and made my way to my room, leaving wet footprints behind me as I went. I slipped in quickly, not wanting to take a chance Sam or Dean came down the hall just then.

“Hello Lucy.”

I spun with a small shriek, hugging my arms over my chest. Cas sat on the edge of my bed, staring at me with wide blue eyes. Apparently he’d only just noticed my state of dress. I hadn’t even noticed him when I’d first gotten in. 

Under different circumstances I would have thrown myself at him, but wrapped solely in a towel, that somehow didn’t seem like the best idea. Instead I instinctively narrowed a glare at him, pulling him off my bed and all but shoving him out my door.

“What are you doing?” I hissed. “Don’t- this- ugh!” I slammed the door in his face, then locked it for good measure. 

“Sorry,” he called. 

I merely grunted in reply, grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from my drawers and pulling them on. As soon as I was dressed I pulled the door open. Cas was still standing there, now blushing several shades of red. As our eyes met he offered me as small smile of apology.

“Sorry,” he said again.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring my own blush of embarrassment. “Yeah, yeah.” I then pulled him into a hug. I hadn’t seen him in several weeks, and at the moment my relief that he hadn’t ended up dead in some ditch was overriding my annoyance at him having seen me in a towel.

After a minute I pulled back. “I missed you,” I whispered.

Cas grinned now, his hand coming up to wipe away a drop of water that was dripping from my hair down my face. “I missed you too,” he responded.

I pulled him back into my room, leaving the door open as he sat on my bed. I grabbed my hair comb and began the arduous task of detangling my curls. “What’d you find out?” I asked.

Cas sighed. “Not much.” 

When he didn’t continue I raised an eyebrow questioningly. 

“None of the angels seem to have any idea about what’s going on,” Cas told me. “At least until I told them. Now they’re all panicking. I spent more time trying to calm them down than I did looking for answers.”

“That can still be helpful,” I offered. “Was there anyone who didn’t seem as freaked out as they should be?”

Cas thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Not that I know of,” he stated. “Though there are so many angels I doubt I would have noticed.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, and I rubbed his back soothingly.

“So you have no idea which angels are involved?” I asked. 

Cas shook his head.

“No.” He looked up again, then froze. I realized that when I’d gone to comfort him I’d left my comb sitting in my hair, and as the angel’s eyes locked on it a grin forced its way over his face. Soon he had descended into giggles.

“Shut up.” I pushed at him gently with my shoulder, and his laughter only deepened.

“Come here,” he ordered. 

I scooted closer and let him tug the comb gently out of my hair. Then he began to work the plastic menace through my curls, and I let myself relax against him. He was surprisingly gentle, and though a couple times he had to yank to get rid of a knot, for the most part the ordeal progressed much smoother than it usually did.

“Thanks.” I took the comb back and tossed it on the top of my dresser, pulling a hair tie through my hair. As Cas nodded I moved in front of him again, and he stood so that we were inches apart. Eagerly we fell into a kiss.

I was the one to break it off. While I certainly enjoyed our kisses, I felt a bit uneasy making out with Cas in my bedroom. I knew the implications behind such a thing, and I wasn’t ready to even think about evolving our relationship to that level. Instead we settled on holding hands as we went to find Sam and Dean.

I pulled out my notebook as we all spoke in the dining room, leaning against Cas as I took notes. He had a tally going in heaven to count the isolated killings, and I added them to the list of the dead. There were now four hundred and fifty six dead angels. Four hundred and fifty six stolen graces. I had no idea how many graces the rogue angels and demons needed to build their god, but I was guessing that amount of grace was a good chunk of what they required.

Eventually we faded into silence. Our searches through the library hadn’t gotten us anything, Cas hadn’t learned anything in heaven, and though a few of Sam and Dean’s sources had yet to get back to them, we all knew that chances were they would be of no help. Though we were all loathe to admit it, we were waiting for Crowley to get something for us.

Cas seemed especially upset about this, but he also seemed determined to put it from his mind. And so as Dean began talking about dinner the angel drew me to the side.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” he asked. “We can eat together.”

Stupidly, it took a minute for me to grasp what he was saying. “But you don’t eat,” I objected. Then I realized, and I grinned. “Wait, sorry. Stupid moment. Yeah, I’d love to go out with you.”

Cas grinned, and I patted him on the arm. “You tell Sam and Dean, I’ll get my jacket.”

I couldn’t help but snicker at the fearful expression on Cas’s face as I started down the hall. 

He met me in my room as I pulled on my jacket and boots. I’d guessed he’d simply called out a quick goodbye to the boys, then run for his life. 

“Where do you want to go?” he asked. 

I tilted my head to the side as I thought. What did I want to do? I honestly didn’t know. I’d been on dates before, but never with an angel. I wasn’t sure if that disqualified some typical dating sites.

In the end I shrugged. “Whatever you want,” I told him. 

Cas nodded, thinking, then grabbed my hand in his. The bunker vanished.

We were standing outside a small restaurant on a busy street corner. I stared around me, trying to gauge where we were. I then frowned as I picked up bits and pieces of the conversations being held by the people bustling about. I didn’t understand a word of it.

“Where are we?” I asked. 

“Paris,” Cas stated. “They’re supposed to be good with chocolate, right?”

I laughed. “Yeah,” I stated. “That’s what I’ve heard.” 

Was dating Cas going to be all picnics in Ireland and dinner in Paris? It seemed like that was the case. I laughed as I spun slowly around me, taking in the foreign land. Paris! I’d always wanted to go to Paris.

We ended up sitting outdoors, and soon a waitress approached. She spoke quickly in French, and I found myself blinking rapidly.

“I don’t speak French,” I hissed. What were we going to do?

Cas shot me a quick smile before replying smoothly to whatever the waitress had said, and I had to focus to keep my jaw from dropping open. 

“What do you want to drink?” he asked.

“How do you speak French?”

Cas grinned. “Angels speak all languages,” he told me. “What do you want to drink?”

It took a moment for my brain to function properly. “Water. Please.”

Cas said something to the waitress, and with a nod and a smile she headed off. Soon she was back with two waters, by which time I’d picked a random dish off the menu. Since everything was in French, I could only hope it was good. I had no idea what it was.

Cas ordered something as well, wanting to keep up appearances of being human. As the food came we tried to chat about small things, but it was harder than it seemed.

“Ok,” I started. “Favorite color?”

Cas looked at me oddly, and I shrugged. “This is what normal people talk about,” I defended myself. 

Cas thought for a moment. “Blue is nice,” he said. “What’s yours?”

I laced my fingers together. “Purple. What about books? Have you even read any books?”

Cas shook his head. “Metatron put the stories he’d read into my mind,” he told me.

I nodded; I remembered. “Which was your favorite?” I asked.

Cas adopted a pained expression. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It was all a jumbled mess when I received it; I could hardly make out the story lines.”

I frowned. “Well that’s no good. How do you know what belongs to what story?”

“I don’t.” Cas looked a bit upset as he realized this.

“I’ll have to give you a reading list,” I told him. He eyed me skeptically, probably fearing something like _The Notebook_ , and I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out. Still, I could tell he was more upset than he was letting on by his lack of cultural experience when it came to literature.

We tried a few more times at conversation, but it never seemed to work. Each time we either realized that he had no idea what I was talking about, or the topic somehow became awkward. I realized that it wasn’t the questions that were awkward, but the fact that we were having to share information. We were both having the jitters. 

As much as I hated to admit it, the romantic Paris setting wasn’t helping at all; in fact it was making us both more nervous. I resisted a sigh as I started in on my dessert, some sort of chocolate cake that was the best I’d ever had.

Cas seemed to be aware of our difficulties too, because as the night went on and we faded into silence he became more sad looking. It was heartbreaking to see; he looked like a lost puppy.

“Come on,” I said. I stood after he’d paid, using a credit card that Dean had scammed for him, and he joined me, taking my hand in his. “I know where we should go.”

The fair was in town. I remembered it from when I was little; all flashing lights and fun rides. It had come to upstate New York every year, and my family had made a habit of spending a night there each time. Out of habit I had googled the fair one day, when I’d been sitting in the bunker with nothing else to do, and had been both happy and sad to see that it operated in this universe. 

The carnival was set up outside the mall, the music that accompanied each ride struggling to be heard over the other tunes that wound through the park. Around us families were bustling happily, little kids dragging their parents one way or another as they searched for their favorite rides. I smiled softly at the familiar setting, pushing down the melancholy that threatened.

Cas watched me with soft blue eyes. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

I smiled. “Yeah. It’ll be fun.”

“We won’t run in to your parallel family, will we?” he asked.

I shook my head. “It’s the middle of the week; they won’t come till Saturday. They’ve got homework to worry about; I don’t.” I allowed myself a small laugh at the fact. Homework was one thing that I did not miss about my old life.

Cas was still looking around us uncertainly, so I caught a hold of his hand. “Come on,” I called. “The rides are this way.”

We spent the rest of the night making our way through the park. We went on every ride, from the blizzard to zero gravity to the scrambler. The scrambler had always been my favorite, and I titled my head back and laughed as we were thrown around in our seat. One second I slid so that I was pressed to Cas’s side against the outer edge of the small box, and the next moment we had slid to the other end, so that I was the one pinned against the wall. Despite his initial worry Cas was soon enjoying himself. At first he clutched the handlebar worriedly, but after a minute he relaxed, and our laughter filled the air.

Eventually we made our way to the Ferris wheel, and I felt my heart pound in my throat. I didn’t know if Cas knew about the typical result of dates going up in the Ferris wheel together, but I knew. I wondered if I should fall to the cliché. Part of me wanted to, while another part avidly rejected doing something that was normal.

As we took our seats I noticed several people looking at us oddly, but I paid them no mind. As the wheel started to turn Cas clutched at the bar in front of us, but as my laughter sounded in his ear he forced himself to relax.

We rose higher, and he began to stare wondrously around us, drinking in the carnival from above. Beneath us the sounds of laughter and music were still audible, and we could barely smell the popcorn and fried dough that was cooking. I made a mental note to get some dough before we left.

As we reached the top of the arc Cas turned to me, his eyes wide. With the lights of the Ferris wheel flashing around us neon reds and yellows were thrown across his face, reflecting off his hair. 

“This is amazing,” he breathed. 

I nodded, happy he was enjoying it. Cas wasn’t done talking though. 

“You’re amazing,” he added. He pulled me to him, and I didn’t object as he kissed me, long and deep. I wasn’t aware of anything else until I felt the Ferris wheel cease to move, and looked around to see that we had reached the bottom. Cas and I broke apart, and we clambered off together, our hands joined as we moved happily to the next ride.

After several more rides we ended up sitting on a bench on the edge of the carnival, munching on fried dough. Cas agreed to try some, and though he said that it was disgusting, he did seem less averted to it than he had been to cheese doodles. This time as we sat together, our conversation came much easier.

Then a familiar car pulled into the carnival, and I cursed quietly under my breath.

“What is it?” Cas asked. 

I frowned as I ducked under his arm, trying to hide from the view of the young couple that was emerging from the red Buick only a few feet away. Brian and Jill, two of my friends from high school who had started going out a year ago. From the doe eyed looks they were giving each other as Brian opened the car door for Jill, I gathered that the same was true here.

“Friends of mine,” I told Cas. “Parallel versions of friends of mine.”

“We should leave,” Cas said. 

I nodded; I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad at the thought.

A moment later we were back in my room at the bunker, sitting on my bed. I stood and tossed the now empty plate of fried dough into the trash bin in the corner, then sat down again. Sam and Dean didn’t know we were back; we could stay here a while longer. I had enjoyed our time together, and I was loathe to get back to the worries that would assault us as soon as we left my room. Here in Cas’s arms, I could forget for a little while longer that the world was falling to pieces around us.

We settled down in my bed, curling up together as we continued our conversation from before. I gave Cas a list of books to read, then added a list of movies he should watch. He in turn described some of his favorite places and times throughout history, telling me about great cities in long lost empires of the past. I then told him about my childhood, and we began to trade off, a story for a story. Together we laughed, then we came close to crying as Cas told me about the falls of great kings. At long last we faded into silence, caught up in our memories. This time our silence wasn’t awkward though, but rather the silence of two companions who were taking comfort in the other’s presence. 

We were still lying there thinking as I grew tired, and I let out a yawn and shifted on Cas’s chest. He chuckled softly and planted a kiss on my head.

“Goodnight Lucy,” he whispered.

“Goodnight Cas,” I replied. Then I was asleep.


	24. Not Good! Not Good! Not Good!

Time passed. We found no clues to help us with the Grace Crisis, and we each grew increasingly frustrated. Dean took to calling Crowley every week, but the king always replied that he was working on it and that he would let us know when he had something.

The only good thing about the passage of time was that it allowed Cas and I to grow closer. We went on more dates, and as we did we grew less awkward around each other. I found that we could sit for hours and talk, and it didn’t have to be about the Grace Crisis. It didn’t even have to be about hunting. Yeah, I told him stories of some of the cases I’d worked with Sam and Dean, and he told me about some of the times he’d spent with them, but that wasn’t all. We spent hours talking about ordinary things, books and TV shows and movies. We stayed up till two in the morning playing board games, and somehow Cas managed to get his hands on a TV and wii, and we had a go at Mario Kart. It ended, as Mario Kart always ends, in the two of us screaming as we tried to run each other off the road.

“No! Nononono!” I resorted to uttering a series of curses as I got knocked off the bridge I had been zipping over, and beside me Cas cackled. My eyes narrowed as my cart reappeared back on the road, and a minute later I got my revenge. By that point Cas had nearly drawn level with me again, and I dropped a banana peel onto the road that sent him spinning. Now it was his turn to curse.

“You two are ridiculous.”

Neither of us glanced up at Dean as he entered the room with a bowl of popcorn. We were too busy trying to win the game. A moment later Sam entered with a couple of beers, and I rolled my eyes. 

“Come to watch the show?” I asked.

“Yep.” Sam peered over my shoulder to see the TV, then turned to Dean. “Who do you think is gonna win?”

“Me,” Cas and I declared at the same time. We then gave each other quick glares before turning back to the game.

“Cas,” Dean decided. 

I resisted the urge to turn and scowl at him; I had just reached a rather narrow spot on the track. I couldn’t afford to get knocked off course now, or Cas would win.

Sam shook his head. “I dunno,” he objected. “I think Lucy might.”

“Would you two shut up,” I growled. “I’m trying to focus.”

Behind me Sam and Dean chuckled, but made no attempts to quiet down as they arranged a bet.

Several minutes later Cas won Mario Kart and proceeded to laugh none too quietly to himself. I cursed as I fell back on the bed of the spare bedroom we were in, then gave him a swift kick in the side. He tumbled off the bed.

Behind me Sam and Dean chortled, and I glared at them as Sam handed over the money Dean had won. Dean smirked as he met my eyes, and I scowled.

“You’re taking way too much enjoyment out of this,” I accused. 

Dean’s only response was to grin and reach over to ruffle my hair.

Cas’s head popped up over the edge of the bed, and he grinned at me, blue eyes twinkling. We both stood and I gave him a playful scowl that he returned. Then he pulled me to him in a kiss, and I forgot that I was supposed to be mad at him.

By the time we’d pulled apart Sam and Dean were scraping the bottom of the popcorn bowl. By now they’d gotten used to mine and Cas’s relationship. Though Sam acted every part the grossed out brother, I could tell he secretly liked us together. Dean no longer looked uncomfortable whenever Cas and I were in the same room together, and he seemed to have accepted Cas and I as an item.

Sam found us a case to work, and as Cas returned to heaven to dig around some more, Sam, Dean, and I packed up and hit the road. We headed to Indiana, where a series of people had been dying in the same area.

After we’d checked out a motel room Sam and Dean changed into their suits, and as they went to find the police station I stole a car and went to where the deaths had been happening. I found myself on a long stretch of road at the edge of town, part of which encompassed a bridge. I pulled the EMF detector out of my back pack and climbed out of the car, checking to make sure no one was around.

No one was, and I turned on the small machine I held. Immediately it started to whizz, the sounds it was giving off only increasing as I moved towards the center of the bridge. Slightly more than halfway across was a large hole in the bridge’s siding. I sidled up to it, reaching out to grab at what was left of the bridge’s railing as I peered over the edge. Below me rushed a narrow but fast river, a series of boulders breaking the water’s edge directly below. I knew that anyone who went over the side there would die.

I started to walk down the road with the EMF detector. We were dealing with a ghost here, and I needed to know how far its range was. The area surrounding the road was desolate for several miles in either direction, but I knew that back the way I’d come was the center of town, the other direction heading towards the open road. It was about fifty miles after the bridge until the next town appeared.

The EMF detector continued to beep at me for a mile in either direction, and I quickly marked the territory on the map I’d brought with me. Despite modern technology, we still procured maps of many of the places we worked cases. Dean didn’t handle technology well, and although Sam was working on teaching me how to hack, I still found more ease in being able to spread out a map. 

I ditched the car in a parking lot, wiping my prints out of it before walking to where the police station was. I stopped briefly for an ice cream, then scanned the parking lot for the impala. I picked the lock, since Dean had the key, and settled down to wait.

Sam and Dean found me lying across the hood of the car, the Metallica music I had playing inside the car blaring loud enough for me to hear from outside. I bit into the cone of my ice cream, waving at them as they approached.

“What’d you find out?” I asked. 

Sam leaned into the car to turn off the music, and Dean gestured for us to get in. They couldn’t risk that someone from the police station saw them talking with me; it would draw too much attention to them. Someone would figure out that they weren’t actually FBI agents.

“We’ve got four victims in the last year,” Dean said. As he spoke Sam handed me the files. “One drove his car off the bridge, another got hit by a car, and the last two got mauled inside their car.”

I frowned and scanned the files. “Ok, first I have Jeremy Gagner,” I told them. “Which one was he?”

“He’s the guy that got run over,” Sam answered. “He was hitch hiking out of town, and someone hit him. Whoever it was didn’t stick around.”

“Are we sure this is related to the case?” I asked.

“It’s in the same area,” Dean pointed out. “I doubt that’s a coincidence.”

I nodded; coincidences were rare with us.

“Ok, what about Hope Shooler and Tyrone Verastic? They got mauled in their car?”

“Yeah.” Sam wrinkled his nose at what I could only assume was a couple of very bloody bodies. “They were all torn up. Doors were locked from the inside of the car, so nothing got out after it killed them.”

I nodded. “We’ve got a ghost. The EMF detector was going crazy.”

“Woman in White?” suggested Dean.

“No.” Sam frowned. “That’s not the pattern of one of those. This is something else.”

“What about the last victim?” I asked. “Mark Fisher?”

“His car went off the bridge,” Sam told me. “Cops wrote it off as a suicide.”

I frowned. “There’s no pattern,” I stated. “One guy got run down, another went off a bridge, and the two teens got killed in their car. What kind of spirit does that?”

Dean was the first to suggest an answer. “Well the guy who got hit by a car didn’t have a car of his own, so the ghost couldn’t exactly run him off the bridge. The two teens were probably parked for some extracurricular activities, so the ghost decided to just pop into the car and kill them in person.”

“And what? For the last victim it possessed the car?”

Dean shrugged. “It has happened.”

I sighed. “Who else has died there?” I asked.

“Not sure.” Sam had pulled the map from my bag and was looking over the markings I’d made. “We’ll have to do some research when we get back to the motel room.”

As soon as we got back we headed into Sam and Dean’s room, and I opened the map on the table. I watched as the boys marked the three places where our vics had been killed; two on the bridge, one almost a mile away.

Dean and I were happy to relax and let Sam do the research. We only had one computer, and both Dean and I found the arduous process of combing through internet articles boring beyond belief. Dean popped open a beer, and I grabbed a soda and settled next to him on his bed. I started to search the TV for something to watch, Dean objecting to everything I tried. Finally I rolled my eyes and chucked the remote at him. 

As the night wore on Dean and I went to pick up some dinner. By the time we’d returned Sam was waiting for us with several new marks on the map.

“There’s been fifteen killings over the last decade,” he told us. “All of them have been within a mile on either side of that bridge.” He pointed to the map, and we inspected the new red dots curiously.

“So who was the first to die there?” I asked.

“Some woman named Joyce Nells,” Sam stated. “She crashed into a tree just off the bridge; died in the collision.”

“Any relatives?” asked Dean.

Sam nodded. “One. She’s got a daughter who lives in town.”

“We’ll go see her tomorrow,” Dean said. 

“What are we going to tell her daughter?” I asked. “I don’t think she’ll believe that the FBI is interested in her mother’s car accident from ten years ago.”

Dean considered. “What did she do for a living?” he asked. 

Sam typed something into the computer. 

“She was a music teacher,” he stated. “Taught violin, piano, the whole works.”

“So I tell her daughter I was a student of hers, and I moved away not long before the accident,” I stated. “I just moved back to town, and I heard about the accident.”

Dean nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Sam nodded as he grabbed his sandwich from the white paper bag. He looked so proud of himself at having uncovered our ghost that I couldn’t help the small smile that coated my lips.

I compared how they’d been when I’d first met them to how they were now. They still had trouble trusting people, with that hard, sad edge that came from so many years of losing the people they loved. But I could also tell that they’d changed during the months that I’d known them. They smiled more often, laughed a little louder. They showed a little more pity in their work, and were slowly drawing back from that psychopathic edge they’d been standing on.

Even Cas had changed. Though I’d come to the conclusion that maybe he hadn’t been as lost as I’d thought he was, I still liked how he’d altered who he was. He’d softened somewhat, and I sensed he was leaning more towards favoring humanity than the angels. He certainly spent the majority of his time with Sam, Dean, and I. Though he still constantly fretted over the Grace Crisis, as did the rest of us, he could also take joy in taking some time off. He could see past the hectic situation at hand. The Cas I had watched on my show would never have played Mario Kart with me in the middle of such a big plot line.

Even I had changed. I was a little harder, a lot stronger, and more cryptic. In the two months since Sam’s birthday I had stopped having nightmares about the monsters I’d killed. I still felt a bit guilty, but I was past feeling that _I_ was the monster. 

Then what was troubling me? I knew something was; I had a small knot in my stomach that only appeared when something was bugging me. I thought back over the past couple of months. With the exception of the Grace Crisis, everything was going well. Was that what was worrying me? Yeah, it was, but there was something else as well.

Cas. My relationship with Cas was the issue. I frowned from where I was curled up in bed; I had by now retired for the night. Why was I unhappy with my relationship with Cas? We worked well together, really well. I was happy when he was around, and he seemed ecstatic when he was near me. We made each other feel good. So what was wrong?

I realized I couldn’t quite get the way people looked at us out of my head. I had noticed it on our first date, when we’d gotten on the Ferris wheel, and though I’d paid little attention to it at the time, I couldn’t help but watch out for it since. Sure enough, wherever the angel and I went together, there was always someone looking at us oddly.

Then I realized what it was. There was too much of an age difference between us. Not even counting the thousands of years old that Cas was, his vessel’s age, the age that Cas was frozen at since the body was now solely his, was way too old. Jimmy had probably been old enough to be my dad.

I frowned and pulled out my phone. I hated using it for research; the small screen was simply too annoying, but I wasn’t going to try to sneak into Sam and Dean’s room to get the laptop. I pulled up a missing person’s report on Jimmy Novac, scanning his information. He’d been in his early thirties when he’d gone missing.

I sighed. Not quite old enough to be my father; Jimmy had died when he was thirty two. Subtracting my nearly eighteen years, he would have been fourteen when I was born.  
Still, Cas looked too old. People who saw us together noticed it, and now that I realized, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head.

 _But that doesn’t matter,_ I told myself. Cas’s real age was so much older than thirty two, it made the age gap irrelevant. It was like Rose Tyler and the Doctor. By the time the Meta-crisis Doctor had been created she was twenty three, and he was nine hundred and four. Like they had done, I decided that when there was that large an age gap, it simply didn’t matter anymore. 

Besides, eventually I would be in my thirties, or at least old enough that the age gap wasn’t so obvious. And Cas looked young for his vessel’s age, appearing to be more in his twenties. Especially when his hair was all ruffled. That was quite cute too- but no, I couldn’t think of that now. 

It hit me then. I was going to get older. I would hit thirty, then forty, and so on, while Cas would stay exactly as he was. I would grow old and die, and he would still be the twenty five looking angel.

What were we going to do? The thought that I would grow too old for Cas shocked me. I hadn’t really thought about the future before. I’d been so caught up in basking in the perfection of our relationship in the here and now that I’d completely neglected to plan ahead. Frankly, I think a part of me didn’t think I’d survive long enough for the future to even happen, but now I was thinking about it, and I realized that it was a possibility. Not only was it a very real possibility, but a very worrying one.

How could we be together when I looked old enough to be _his_ mother? His grandmother? I buried my face in my pillow, resisting the tears that came to my eyes. Suddenly my future with Cas seemed very bleak.

I didn’t sleep much that night, and though I was sure Sam and Dean noticed the next morning, they didn’t comment. Dean drove to the house of River Nells. She was a pretty red head with blue eyes, and she opened the door with a curious smile on her face.

“Hi,” I started. “River Nells?”

She nodded, her eyes sweeping over Sam, Dean, and I on her front porch. “Who are you?” she asked.

Dean jumped in before I could answer. “I’m Dean. This is my brother Sam and my sister Lucy. She used to take music lessons from your mom.”

River frowned slightly, and I knew what she was thinking. With my dark skin I looked nothing like Sam and Dean; it was pretty obvious we weren’t related. River apparently decided not to comment, probably assuming I was adopted- which I sort of was. At the mention of her mother her face softened, and she stepped aside. 

“Come on in,” she said softly.

We were led to a sitting room, and we each politely refused the water River offered us. She sat opposite the couch we perched on, in a white chair that went rather nicely with the cream colored walls.

“My mom died ten years ago,” she told us. “In a car crash.”

I nodded. “I heard. We just moved back to town, and when I found out I felt the need to come. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

River smiled softly. “Thank you,” she whispered. A tear came to her eye, but she roughly brushed it away. “Did you spend very long studying under my mother?”

I shook my head. “Just a month or two. Do you mind me asking what happened exactly?”

River shook her head no, that she didn’t mind. “No one really knows,” she stated. “She was coming home from work one night; she had another job a few towns over as a secretary for a law firm. She just never came home. The next morning they found her car smashed against a tree. She must have crashed swerving to avoid something.”

I frowned, and thinking that she’d upset me by imparting too many details, River paled and reached over to take my hand. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have said so much.”

“No, no, it’s ok.” I squeezed her hand, offering her a small smile. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

This time River couldn’t quite catch the tear before it fell from her eye. “It’s alright,” she told me. “It was hard, but I managed.”

We stayed for a little longer, and River told us about her mother. She had been a gentle, patient woman who loved music only second to her daughter. When Joyce had died River was in college, and had moved home again after her mother’s funeral. Joyce had been buried in the local cemetery.

At last we left, and the silence that settled over the car was one of sadness and reflection. Sam sighed as he looked out the window. 

“So we burn the bones tonight?” he asked.

Dean nodded. “Yep.”

As soon as the sun set we headed for the graveyard. During the afternoon, after we’d left River’s house, we had pinpointed where the grave was, so we weren’t stuck stumbling around the cemetery like a bunch of idiots. We each took turns digging, and Dean let me do the honors of lighting the fire.

I gulped. I felt bad just torching her. She had been a person once. A mother who had loved her daughter, who had loved her music and the students she’d taught it to.

 _I’m sorry,_ I said in my head. 

I tossed the match onto the grave, and immediately the flames soared. I took a step back as I watched them flicker; as always we stayed to make sure the bones were completely destroyed before leaving.

* * * * *

We had to pass over the bridge to leave town the next day. As we drew level with it we frowned at the flashing lights of the police cars.

“That’s not good,” Sam stated.

I leaned forward in my seat. “Could she have gotten to someone else before we torched her last night?”

Dean frowned. “I don’t know.” He cursed and did a U-turn, and we re-rented the motel room for the next night.

It didn’t take long for Sam and Dean to check out the crime scene under their FBI guises. As soon as I opened the door to let them into my room I knew something was wrong.

“We had the wrong person,” Sam said. “It wasn’t Joyce Nells.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

Dean nodded. “Our victim was a homeless guy. Got mauled the same way as those teens. They said he died around ten at night. By then we’d already left the cemetery.”

I cursed. “Why wasn’t he run over?” I asked.

Sam shrugged. “There probably weren’t any cars around for the ghost to possess.”

“Forget that,” said Dean. “Who’s our ghost?” He stalked over to the map, staring at the red dots as though one of them would suddenly shout out that the person who it represented was our ghost.

“Maybe we didn’t go back far enough,” I suggested. “Has anyone died there before ten years ago?”

Sam shook his head. “No,” he said.

“What about deaths in the area?” I asked. “Look for something that involves knife slashes. Unsolved cases.”

“Why’s that?” asked Dean.

I pulled out the pictures of the two dead teenagers and showed them to Sam and Dean. “Those look like knife slashes,” I stated. “Maybe someone got killed on the bridge and was tossed into the river. No one might have figured out where they died, or who did it.”

Sam started searching on the computer. “Found something,” he called. “Toby Williams, died twelve years ago. They found his body at the lake downriver from the bridge. Someone had killed him with his own pocket knife. The police never managed to uncover anything from there.”

“Does he have any family?” I asked.

“Yeah. A brother. Kurt Williams.”

“Let’s go visit him,” suggested Dean. He had already pulled his jacket on. “Good work,” he added.

Kurt Williams was in his late thirties. He answered the door with a suspicious frown aimed at Sam and Dean. I was sitting in the car down the road, watching from the passenger seat. Sam and Dean, still in their FBI suits, said a few words, and then Kurt stepped back so they could enter his house.

A half hour later they returned, looking incredibly frustrated.

“What’d you find out?” I asked. I crawled into the back seat so Sam could sit next to his brother, and Dean pulled onto the road.

“Not much.” Sam sighed. “He says his brother went out for a drink one night and never came home. A few days later they found him in the river.”

“That’s about all the police knew,” I stated.

Dean nodded. “Yup. We’ve got nothing.”

I leaned back in my seat with a sigh. “What now?” I asked.

“I dunno.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should block off the bridge, keep people away from the area.”

“We can keep people away from the bridge, but the local police will object to us blocking off the road for another mile in either direction,” pointed out Dean.

“Are we sure this is our ghost?” I asked.

“No,” said Sam. “But he’s our best bet so far.”

“Then we do our best to keep people off the road until tonight, then we torch the bones,” I said.

Dean nodded. “Let’s go get started on that blockade,” he said.

As we drove Sam frowned. “Did something seem off about Kurt to you?” he asked Dean.

Dean nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Wonder what it was.”

* * * * *

The sheriff of the town was at the crime scene on the bridge. As we pulled up I ducked down in the backseat, and Sam and Dean approached the man. I watched from the car, taking in the displeased nod of the sheriff. Then my head whipped to the side as one of the officers screamed.

One of the cars had decided to turn itself on, and before the man could move it had slammed into him. I cursed, racking my brain for an idea. How was I supposed to fight a possessed car?

Sam and Dean seemed to be having the same difficulties, because they stared in openmouthed shock as the car ran over two more officers. Then the police car came to a halt, and my heart pounded. Where was the ghost?

I gasped as the impala roared to life, and I quickly scrambled to the front of the car. 

“Oh no you don’t,” I muttered. 

The ghost paid me no mind as it guided the car at an ever increasing speed straight towards where Sam, Dean, and the sheriff stood in shock, and I slammed on the break. It didn’t work.

The three of them dove to the side, and I glanced behind me to make sure they were alright. They were, and I turned my attention back to the car. It was still moving, and I realized it was heading right for the side of the bridge.

Not good. I tried to open the door, but the ghost had locked it. Hitting the unlock button did no good, neither did trying to open the window. With a curse I pulled out my pocket knife and slammed it against the window, and the glass shattered. I stuffed the knife back in my pocket and pulled myself out of the window, then threw myself to the ground. I landed hard, but since I had wrapped my arms around my head and rolled as I hit the pavement, I wasn’t hurt too bad. Just several scraps.

I still groaned as I pushed myself up. The ghost had realized that there was no longer anyone in the car for it to drive off the bridge, and it left the impala. The car skidded to a stop inches away from the side of the bridge.

“Lucy!”

I turned to see Sam and Dean running at me, then glanced up to see a ghost standing over me. In his young twenties, he had hair that hung in his face and murder in his eyes. There were several slashes on his arms and torso, defensive marks from a fight. A pocket knife was still embedded in his chest, ethereal grey. The ghost dislodged the knife from its ribcage and swung it down at me, and I rolled out of the way.

I started to pull out my pocket knife as I scrambled to my feet, then realized that it wouldn’t do any good. It wasn’t pure iron, it was just a regular knife, and wouldn’t affect the ghost at all. I was forced to duck to avoid the ghost’s next attack.

By now we had traded places, and I backed towards Sam and Dean, never taking my eyes off the ghost. It advanced towards me, and I gulped in fear. How long would I be able to dodge?

I didn’t get a chance to find out. A gun went off behind me, and I turned to see Dean standing a few meters back. He had apparently had one of the rock salt guns on him, because the bullet that tore through the ghost’s skull scattered it into dust.

“Are you ok?” Sam rushed forward and pulled me into a hug, and I nodded against his chest.

“Fine,” I assured him. “What about you?”

“We’re fine.” Dean stuffed the gun back into his belt, drawing me into a second hug. As I pulled away the sheriff approached, then, to my panic, proceeded to pull out a pair of handcuffs.

“What’s that for?” Dean stepped between me and the sheriff, who sent him a cold look.

“She just tried to run us over,” the sheriff growled. He turned to look at me, fury in his eyes. “She just ran over three of my officers. She’s under arrest.”

My eyes widened. This couldn’t be happening. I was not about to get arrested for this! Beside me Sam stepped forward, and now I had both Winchesters standing protectively in front of me.

“She didn’t do anything,” Sam objected. “She wasn’t even in the first car. It was empty. And she would never try to kill us.”

“Then how do you explain the fact that she _did_ run over three people and she _tried_ to kill us?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “There was no one in the first car. You saw that, I saw that. She would never run someone over, and we all saw the dude that tried to kill her. Since you want to ask questions, why don’t you ask where he came from.”

The sheriff frowned. “She was behind the wheel of your car,” he objected.

“I was trying to stop the car,” I defended myself. I hated how my voice sounded shaky. “The brakes weren’t working.”

“What? The car just turned itself on?” The sheriff’s glare was disbelieving.

I resisted the urge to groan. What were we going to do? He was not going to believe anything we said, and I was _not_ taking a trip downtown.

Sam and Dean seemed to realize that, because they traded quick glances. Then, before the sheriff could react, Dean’s fist hit him on the side of the face, and the man crumpled to the ground.

“Let’s go.” Dean grabbed my arm and hurried toward the impala. “We need to get out of town.”


	25. Would it Really Be Such a Bad Thing To Get Some Answers Instead of More Questions?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry it's been so long since I've posted. I actually have this entire story written, and am in the process of writing the sequel. You guys have to start sending me angry messages to post already.  
> On that note, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Dean seemed to barely notice the smashed window of his precious car. He took a second to wipe away some glass from the seat, then climbed in. As soon as Sam and I had joined him he threw the car into gear, and we sped off the bridge.

For a while we were silent, each caught up in our worries. I was the first to break the silence.

“Sorry about your window,” I said. My voice was barely above a whisper, and though I knew that I really shouldn’t feel bad, I couldn’t help but feel that Dean was upset with me. He loved his car.

From the front seat Dean snorted. “I don’t care about the window,” he told me. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, then realized that Dean couldn’t see. “Yeah,” I said.

“We do need to get the window fixed,” Sam pointed out. “It’s gonna draw suspicion, and we gotta lay low for a while.”

Dean nodded. “Let’s find somewhere to bunker down first,” he suggested. “We’ll worry about the rest later.”

I frowned. “How are we going to finish the case?” I asked. “We need to get back to town!”

Dean shrugged. “We’ll sneak in.”

I took a moment to mull over his words. “And by ‘we,’ you mean…”

“I mean me and Sam,” Dean stated. His voice had taken on a commanding tone, and I felt myself rise to the bait.

“Nah-uh. Not gonna happen. I’m coming.” I crossed my arms, and I could barely see Dean’s face twist in a frown.

“Every cop in that place will be looking for you,” he stated. “Plus, you almost just got run off a bridge, and then the damn ghost nearly stabbed you!”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been in dangerous situations before,” I reminded him. “I can handle myself. Besides, I think now that you’ve punched the sheriff they’ve realized that you’re not actually FBI agents. You’re in as much trouble as I am.”

Dean shot Sam a glare as if to say _help me_ , but Sam only shook his head. He at least had learned that trying to tell me what to do was useless. 

We rented a motel room about an hour away, and Dean left almost immediately to get the car fixed. He ended up driving several towns over, just in case the police tried to find us by looking for the impala. He returned some time later with dinner and our bags.

“What- did you sneak into town on your own?” I asked.

“Yep.” Dean sent me a smirk and sank into a chair, and I rolled my eyes.

“At least we know that we can,” commented Sam.

I nodded. “They probably won’t expect us to go into town; they’ll think we’re running for it. They’ve already got a news alert out on us.”

Dean groaned. “Great. Have they figured out who Sam and I are?”

“Not yet. When the media starts going crazy about the criminal brothers who can’t seem to die then we’ll know that they know.” 

All three of us let out a quick laugh.

“Have you called Cas?” asked Dean.

I shook my head. “I’ll give him a call tonight, like always. Him knowing that I’m now a fugitive, even if the police don’t have my full name, won’t do any good. He’ll just worry. Besides, he’s busy. He probably won’t even answer.”

Dean nodded, looking unconvinced. Luckily, neither brother pressed me.

Why didn’t I want to call Cas? It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to know what was going on, and I wasn’t upset with him for anything. Maybe it was just that I knew he would worry, and I really didn’t want to be mothered over.

I also knew my reluctance to call Cas was pertaining to my realization two nights ago. I’d been able to shove it for the most part to the back of my mind, but it was still there, lurking. Twisting my stomach into knots. 

I shoved aside my worry again, joining Sam by the computer as he pulled up an image of Toby Williams. He had been a strong jawed young man with dark hair that hung into nearly black eyes. Back when he’d been alive, I was sure he’d been the captain of the eye-candy club.

I nodded. “That’s him.” Even though the ghost that had attacked me had been murderous enough so that he was barely recognizable as the softly smiling man in the photo, I could still recognize them as the same person. What had happened to him to make him the way he was now? Who had killed him?

“Where’s he buried?” asked Dean. 

Sam spent a few minutes searching on the computer.

“There’s nothing listed,” he said.

“His brother would know,” I pointed out.

“He won’t talk to us,” Dean objected. “He was suspicious of us the first time; there’s no way he’ll let us say a word. He’ll just call the police.”

I frowned. “Why was he so suspicious?” I asked.

Sam shrugged. “Some people just are.”

“When do we sneak back in?” I asked.

“Tonight.” Dean tossed me my burger. “Eat. We’ll leave when it’s dark.”

True to his word, as soon as the sky was reasonably dark we left the motel room, and I was happy to see a new window in place in the impala. We didn’t take it though, walking a few blocks before hot wiring a car. We knew our own car was too easily recognizable.

The bridge into town was blocked off by yellow police tape, a digital sign blinking several miles back to warn travelers of the fact. We did as the sign said and headed south until we came to another entrance to the town. 

Kurt Williams’s house was completely dark, not even a single light on. We crept up to the back door with flashlights and rock salt guns, and Dean picked the lock.

We split up, searching the house for some sort of document pertaining to where Toby was buried. Kurt had to have something in his house.

I ended up in the dining room, digging through the doors of a china closet that looked like it had seen better days. There was nothing. As I finished with the last drawer I stood, nearly forgetting to keep quiet about how I closed it in my frustration.

Then an object on the mantelpiece caught my eye. A single black vase, the lid fastened tightly, stood at the center of the shelf. I crossed the room to it with a frown, setting down my flashlight and twisting off the lid.

Peering inside, I uttered a long stream of curses. The vase was filled with black ash, and I knew instantly what it was. I stormed into the kitchen, where Sam and Dean were going through the counter drawers.

“Found the brother,” I declared. They both looked up hopefully, and I all but slammed the vase onto the counter. “How did you two not notice that when you were here?”

Sam bit his lip. “Oops,” he managed.

I glowered at him.

“So now what do we do?” Dean asked. “There’s gotta be something else tying it here.”

We spun as we heard a clomping on the stairs. 

“Who’s there?” called a voice. I only assumed it belonged to Kurt Williams.

“Never mind that, run!” I grabbed Sam and Dean’s hands and bolted for the door, and we closed the back door behind us just in time.

“Shit,” I gasped. “We left the vase on the counter!”

Dean scowled. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. 

It turned out it did. Before we could move the back door opened, revealing one very flustered Kurt Williams. Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, he was clutching a baseball bat firmly in his hands. Immediately he swung the bat, not caring which one of us he hit, just that he hit someone. 

I had to duck to avoid being brained, and Sam grabbed my hand and pulled me back. Together we ran away from the house, chased all the way by Kurt. Climbing the rickety metal fence at the edge of the property, we all jumped to the other side moments before the bat connected with where Dean had just been. As we darted through the next yard Kurt’s shouts filled the air behind us, and throughout the neighborhood lights started to flicker on.

“Here!” Sam pulled us behind someone’s shed, pulling out his lock pick. Soon the lock on the door clattered to the ground, and Sam wrenched open the door. Once we were safely inside the shed I reached for my pocket where I’d stuffed my little flashlight.

“Turn that off,” Dean ordered. “Someone passing by could see the light from under the door.”

I scowled, but did as he said. It was a good thing too. A few minutes later we heard sirens, and as all the police cars- and it sounded like quite a few of them too- came to a stop in the streets, orders to spread out and search for us were shouted.

We sat in the dark and waited, and I tried not to imagine what spiders and other insects were in the dark shed with us. Hunting and all its gore I could handle. Spiders I couldn’t. They were just too creepy.

In our hiding place, every creak of wood and every noise outside was a cop searching for us. Every time we heard something we tensed, but nothing ever came through the door. At last I scooted closer to where Sam and Dean crouched.

“Should I call Cas?” I asked. “He can fly us out of here.”

There was a moment of silence, which was only prolonged as we saw the bright light of sweeping flashlights from outside the door. We held our breaths, only relaxing again when the footsteps outside faded.

“Text him,” whispered Sam. 

I nodded and pulled out my phone, dimming its light just in case. I sent the text, then shoved the phone back in my pocket. 

“Lucy?”

I turned as Cas’s voice sounded behind me. 

_Well, that didn’t take long_ , I thought.

“Here,” I whispered. I heard shuffling, and a moment later Cas’s hand came to rest on my shoulder.

“Hey Angel Dust,” I whispered. 

I could all but see the thin smile that split Cas’s lips at my nickname, and he slowly leaned forward until he could press a kiss to my forehead.

“Hello.” 

“Make out later, first get us out of here,” Dean ordered.

As soon as we were in the motel room Cas pulled me to him, and I kissed him hard. It had been a while since we’d last seen each other, and neither of us liked the separation. 

Sam and Dean had moved to the table, giving us some privacy, and once Cas and I had broken apart we went to join them. 

“We’ve gotta figure out what the ghost is tied to,” stated Sam.

Cas held up a hand. “What are you even working on?” he asked.

Dean quickly filled him in, and I sat back in my chair to think. If Toby Williams was tied to a specific object, he would be forced to stay near that object. Since he appeared on a bridge, I doubted that was the case. Unless that object was the bridge. 

“What if it’s the bridge?” I asked. “Assuming he died there and was tossed into the river, he could be tied to the place where he died.”

“We can’t burn down the whole bridge,” objected Sam. He frowned.

Dean thought for a moment. “We might not have to. What if it’s not the bridge itself he’s tied to? What if there’s blood on the bridge that never came off, and that’s what’s keeping him here?”

“You would only need to burn those pieces,” commented Cas.

“Not tonight.” Dean grabbed a beer from the fridge. “We’ve gotta stay here for a few days until everything quiets down.”

“At least we don’t have to get into town this time,” I offered.

“But now the police know we haven’t left the area,” Sam pointed out. “They’ll be watching all exits in case we try to sneak out; they think we’re still there.”

I sighed. This was going to be difficult. Beside me Cas was switching his gaze between us worriedly. He seemed about to suggest he stay to help us when someone cleared their throat behind us.

“Castiel.” 

We all lurched to our feet and spun to take in the woman standing across the room. With dark hair and eyes and an olive complexion, she was stunning to look at. 

“You need to come back. We were in the middle of a meeting.”

Cas sighed, and I glanced up at him. 

“Did you walk out on a meeting to come get us?” I whispered.

His only response was a shrug.

“Who the hell is this?” asked Dean. He was glaring at the angel, and just behind him Sam was drifting slowly closer to the bag of weapons on the bed.

“This is Yvonne,” Cas told us. 

Yvonne stepped forward slightly. “The Winchesters,” she greeted. “Now a trio. I am Yvonne, an angel of the lord.”

I decided not to mention that the lord had more or less ditched his angels, simply giving Yvonne a nod and small smile. The angel ignored Sam and Dean’s glares, turning back to Cas with a raised eyebrow that clearly said let’s go.

“I have to go,” Cas said. He turned to me, and there was sorrow in his eyes. “Will you be alright without me?”

I rolled my own eyes. “I’ll be fine,” I told him. I pulled on his tie, and eagerly we descended into a last kiss. “Check in when you can, “I whispered.

Cas nodded, his nose brushing the side of my face. He planted one last kiss on my nose, and then he and Yvonne were gone. 

I slipped off to my room soon after. There was little to do for the case; we were stuck waiting until the police calmed down a bit before sneaking over to the bridge. Seeing Cas had reminded me of the worries that had been circulating through my head, and I crawled into bed to ponder them. By the time I’d fallen asleep an hour later, I still hadn’t found a solution.

It was another two days before we could get back to town. Naturally we waited till night, then loaded up another stolen car and hit the road. As Dean guided the car through the streets our eyes skirted about nervously, but no one stopped us. As we neared the bridge my heart began to pound in my chest.

“Stop the car,” I ordered. 

Sam and Dean glanced back at me in confusion, but Dean guided the car to the side of the road.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’d rather not have a repeat of the last time we were at the bridge,” I stated. “We’re almost to the ghost’s range; let’s walk the rest of the way.”

The boys didn’t seem too pleased by this idea, but they nonetheless climbed out of the car. We gathered the gas and salt, then started forward. Now that we were closer to town we were even more on edge. On foot there was no chance of us outrunning a police car, whether it was being driven by a cop or a ghost.

Luckily for us, there was no one on the bridge as we approached. The police tape was still there, but the cops must have blocked off the road closer to town. We set to examining the wooden boards of the bridge, searching for anything that might be blood.

Instinct had me spin five minutes later, just in time to see the flash of a ghostly knife strike at my chest. I threw myself out of the way, not even wasting time with a cry of surprise.

“Guys!” I scrambled to my feet and spun, pulling out the iron rod I had tucked into my belt. As Toby Williams struck again I parried, then slipped past his guard and whacked him with the rod. He flickered, then disappeared.

“Behind you!” 

I spun at Sam’s words to see Toby appear again, and as Sam rushed over I again began to block. Each time one of us landed a blow the ghost would simply appear somewhere else, and we put ourselves back to back so he couldn’t sneak up behind us. Off to the side Dean was frantically searching the ramparts of the bridge.

I knew we couldn’t keep this up for much longer. Sam and I were already tiring, and it was only a matter of time before the ghost turned its attention to Dean’s unprotected back. As far away from him as Sam and I were, I doubted that we could reach him on time, and as involved in his searching as Dean was, I wasn’t sure that he would notice the ghost until it was too late.

So, grasping at straws, I stepped forward. “Toby!” I shouted.

The ghost paused, blinking, but a moment later resumed its attack. I ignored Sam’s glare as we continued to defend against Toby; it had been worth a try. It had nearly worked too. I just needed to get through to him, and maybe the ghost would let go of this world on its own.

“Toby!” I tried again. “Tobias Williams, listen to me!”

I spun as he disappeared, automatically lifting the iron bar I carried to block his downward swipe to my head as he reappeared again.

“Tobias Williams is dead,” he snarled. “I am dead. You will be too.”

He shoved, and I stumbled backwards. He started forward again, and I summoned up my courage and rolled my eyes, letting him do so.

“That was probably the cheesiest threat I’ve ever heard,” I told him.

“What?” Now Toby had paused, staring at me as though I was insane. Seeing as I was insulting a ghost that was trying to slice and dice me, insane was probably a good word to describe me.

Instead of acknowledging this, I simply crossed my arms and nodded.

“I am dead; you will be too? Come on, that’s right out of the movies. If you’re going to kill me, at least don’t do it with lame lines like that.”

Now the knife in Toby’s hand had lowered slightly, and he was staring at me in confusion. Sam paused, his glance going between the ghost and me. I signaled for him to stay where he was, and ever so slightly he nodded.

I continued. “Of course,” I said, “you don’t have to kill me. What did I ever do to you? What did any of the people you’ve killed do to you?”

Toby’s mouth twisted into a snarl. “Revenge,” he swore. “I will have revenge.”

I frowned. “For your death? Toby, they weren’t involved in your death. They were just innocent people. You murdered them, just like you were murdered. How does that make you better than the person who killed you? What gives you the right to do that?”

Toby frowned now, and his hands fell limply to his side. I didn’t relax though; he was still holding the knife, and could lunge at me at any moment. 

I inspected Toby. He was clearly racking his brain, trying to find the answers to his questions. Now that someone had mentioned how wrong what he’d been doing was, he was having trouble with it. I wondered if that would work on all ghosts. I made a mental note to use it again in the future, if I survived that long.

“Toby,” I whispered. I stepped forward, and he looked up at me, rage, pain, and confusion swirling in his eyes. I felt my heart give a shudder for him, this young man who had been murdered so brutally. He’d never had a chance to enjoy life.

“What happened to you?” I asked. “Tell me.”

Toby gulped, the motion spreading apart the skin on his throat where it had been slashed. “My brother,” he said at last. “My brother killed me.”

Now it was my turn to blink. “Your brother?” I asked. “But- why?”

Toby clenched his fists. “We loved the same girl,” he told me. “She loved me more, and Kurt knew it. We got into a fight at the bar, and I decided to walk home. I just thought he needed some space.” Toby snorted in derision. “I was on the bridge when I heard the car coming behind me, Kurt behind the wheel. I didn’t have a chance to get out of the way.”

My eyes were watering with tears, but Toby wasn’t done. His eyes, as flat as they were in their ghostliness, had taken on a faraway look. “Then he got out of the car,” he told me. “I had a pocket knife on me; Kurt had given it to me for my birthday when I was twenty.” He looked at the knife in his hand with an ironic smile. When he looked back to me there was a gleam in his eyes, and I could tell he was enjoying my horror. “He took the knife and killed me. He was in a rage, so it wasn’t quick.” He gestured to the many slashes that crisscrossed his arms and chest, then finally pointed to the slash across his throat. “He did all this, then stabbed me in the chest and threw me over the bridge. I died in the water.”

There were tears coming down my face. “I’m so- I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I stepped closer, and Toby watched me curiously. No longer was his face hostile, only curious. His revelation of his death seemed to have quieted the rage within him, at least for now. I suspected we didn’t have long until it bucked up again.

“Toby,” I insisted. “You have to let go. This isn’t right.” I shook my head to accentuate my point. “It’s time to let go now.”

Toby’s eyes narrowed. “You sound like _it_ ,” he stated.

I paused, my eyebrows drawing together in confusion. “Huh?” I asked.

“The voice,” explained Toby. Now his face had taken on an expression of awe and suspicion, and he looked at me with appraising eyes. “The voice said the same things.”

“What voice?” asked Sam. 

Toby didn’t even glance over to him, keeping his eyes trained on me as he spoke.

“Yesterday,” he confided. “The voice came to me. It told me the same things you did. It offered me a place in heaven.”

“And you didn’t go?” I asked.

Toby bared his teeth, hefting the knife to show it to me. “With what I’ve done? The gates would never open for me. I told the voice this, but it didn’t care. It said it would build a new heaven for me, a place where my crimes didn’t matter.”

I gulped. Who the hell had the power to do that? 

“Did you see the person who told you this?” I asked. 

Toby shook his head. “There was only a voice. Nothing else. It had no one source; it came from all things.” 

I traded a look with Sam. Could this have to do with the Grace Crisis? Did the demons actually build their god? If so, what were they doing harvesting more souls?

 _Trying to get stronger_ , I reminded myself. _Absorbing more souls, like Cas did with Purgatory. Like the angels’ graces. Whoever this is lied to Toby._

I chose not to say this to him. Instead I stepped closer, dangerously close. I was now only inches away from him, and Sam edged closer, ready to interfere.

“I don’t know if the voice has a place waiting for you,” I told him. “I don’t know if you can get into heaven. But I do know this; you can’t stay. Toby, you’re dead. Be dead. Rest now. It’s ok to let go.”

Toby stared at me, and I could tell he was considering. “I don’t want to go,” he whispered at last, and to my anguish his voice was breaking. “I’m scared.”

I nodded, and a new tear streaked down my face. “I know,” I whispered. “I know.” 

I reached out to his shoulder. My hand, I knew, would simply pass through him, so I hovered my palm about where his clothes started, grey and flickering in the lights that lined the bridge. Despite the fact that we weren’t touching Toby seemed comforted by my action. Slowly his free hand came up to hover over mine.

Then he screamed. I yelped as Sam dove forward, tackling me to the ground. I writhed, desperate to shove him off me and figure out what was happening, but Sam had me pinned, coving me protectively with his large body. After a minute everything was silent.

“Let me up!” I shouted. “Sam!”

Sam pushed off me and I stumbled to my feet. Where was Toby?

“Are you ok?” he asked. 

I nodded dumbly, still scanning around for the ghost. I’d been so close to convincing him to let go; I could feel it. Was all my work cancelled out now? Was he about to attack again?

“He’s gone,” Dean told me. 

For the first time I glanced over to him, taking in the smoldering ashes at his feet. He’d found the blood stained wood and burned it.

I nodded. Toby had moved on. Maybe not by will, but that didn’t matter. We’d done what we’d come here to do. Our job was done.

So why did my insides hurt so much?

“His brother killed him,” I muttered. Sam and Dean exchanged wary glances, unsure of where I was heading. “His own brother.”

Dean nodded and stepped forward, resting his hand on my shoulder. The action brought fresh tears to my eyes, reminding me of how I’d only moments ago been comforting Toby in the same way. “I know,” he said. “I heard.”

“We can’t do anything,” Sam said. “I’m sorry. I know you want to, but how are we supposed to do anything? There’s no evidence, and no one would listen to us. The only ones who’d get arrested would be us.”

I nodded at his reminder of our fugitive statuses. “I know,” I whispered. Still, it didn’t seem right. I closed my eyes briefly, fighting to regain control over my emotions. When I opened them again I nodded to tell Dean I was fine. “Let’s go.”

The car ride back to the motel was silent, but as we moved towards our rooms I noticed that Sam and Dean walked a little closer together. As I went to open my door they each drew me into a hug, and I welcomed the comfort they offered me. I collapsed into bed, my heart heavy. I fell asleep quickly, but when I woke the next morning, I could faintly remember dreams tinged with sadness.


	26. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so to say sorry for keeping you waiting so long for the last update, I'm giving you another chapter tonight. Also, I kind of want to finish posting this story. After I finish with this story line I'll be posting a one-shot, and then I'll start putting up the sequel. So don't worry, there's still plenty of reading material coming your way.  
> Thank you all so much for putting up with my long hiatuses. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

I sighed as I woke up, staring around me sourly. Outside my bedroom door I could faintly hear Sam and Dean making their way down the hall, whispering as they went. I could only imagine what they were whispering about.

It was July twenty-second; my birthday. I had caught Sam and Dean sending each other evil grins over the past couple of weeks, and each time I walked into Dean’s room while he was talking to someone on the phone he would flip it shut hurriedly. I assumed that he had been making plans with Cas. I had no idea what the three of them were up to, but judging by the growing excitement in them as the date grew closer, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I was highly considering just hiding in my room all day.

I didn’t get that option. Before long Cas appeared, blue eyes shining and a wide grin on his face.

“Happy birthday,” he greeted me. His voice was light and playful, and I scowled.

“I don’t suppose I can convince you three to stop whatever you’re planning?” I asked.

Cas shook his head. “Nope.” 

He stepped forward and scooped me up in his arms, ignoring my squeal of protest. 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Cas smirked. “You won’t get out of bed otherwise,” he guessed. 

I scowled; he really did know me too well.

Cas carried me to the dining room, setting me as gently as he could in a chair. A moment later Sam and Dean appeared, carrying in a plate heaped with eggs, bacon, and toast. 

“Happy birthday!” they chorused. They set the food, along with a cup of coffee, in front of me, and I couldn’t resist a small smile. 

“Thanks,” I muttered.

_Ok, they made breakfast; not bad so far. Hopefully they didn’t do anything else._

“So.” Sam sat across from me, watching me happily. “What do you want to do today?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t we have stuff going on?” I asked. Had they forgotten about the Grace Crisis?

“It can wait,” Dean stated. “Today’s about you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Joy,” I said sarcastically.

All three boys laughed. They continued to stare at me as I ate, waiting for me to name what I wanted.

“Alright,” I shouted. “I’m trying to eat here, and you three are staring at me! Do something else!”

Again I was met with a chorus of laughs, but they obligingly stood and began to do other things. At least Sam and Dean did, moving into the kitchen to make themselves some breakfast. Cas remained sitting beside me, watching me with those big blue eyes of his.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

I glanced over, only to see worry coating his face as he examined me. 

“Something’s troubling you.”

I shook my head. “It’s nothing,” I told him. “I’m just worried about the whole Grace Crisis thing.”

Cas shook his head. “There’s something else,” he stated.

I sighed, knowing he wasn’t likely to leave things alone. Still, I didn’t want to tell him. I wanted to enjoy one day, especially my birthday, not spend it worrying about what it signified. I knew once I brought up the topic, there was no going back. It would be real, and we would both know it.

“You miss your family,” Cas guessed. 

I nodded, avoiding his gaze as I poked at my eggs.

“That’s part of it,” I admitted. I hadn’t really thought about my family that day; with a shock I realized I hadn’t thought about them in a while. I couldn’t help but feel guilty at the thought, but I shoved it out of my mind. One problem at a time. 

“There’s something else,” I told him. I forced myself to meet Cas’s gaze, watching the worry spread through his eyes. 

“What is it?” he asked. His hand came up to stroke my cheek, gently, almost reverently, and I caught it with my own hand. How reverent would his touch be when my face was covered in wrinkles?

“I’m going to get old,” I told him. “I’m going to get old and die, and you are going to stay exactly how you are. How are we supposed to work past that? How are you supposed to love me when I’m all wrinkled, when I look old enough to be your mother? Your grandmother? When I can’t even remember who you are?”

I choked to a stop, pulling away before Cas could see the tears in my eyes. I stood and stalked off, wiping roughly at my face. I couldn’t cry. Not now. It was _my birthday_. I deserved one damn day of peace!

I didn’t hear Cas come up behind me; I didn’t realize he was there until he pulled me into his arms. I turned towards him, burying my face in his chest as his hands came up to stroke my back.

“I will always love you,” he murmured into my ear. “No matter what you look like. We will find a way Lucy, I promise.”

I froze, Cas’s words echoing through my head. _He loved me? That’s what I heard, right? That he loved me?_

Yep, that was it. Suddenly I felt shaky, and I began to tremble against Cas. Worriedly he pulled back slightly to look at my face.

“Lucy?” he asked.

I kissed him. Hard, and with a half strangled passion. He responded immediately, and my fingers came up to wind through his hair. A moment later he pressed me against the wall, his hands on either side of my head, and I heard him moan softly against my mouth.

Someone cleared their throat.

Dean was setting down breakfast for himself and Sam, dubiously ignoring Cas and I. Sam however was making no attempt to give us privacy, leaning in the doorway with a humongous grin on his face.

“Shut up,” I ordered. 

Sam smirked as he took a seat. “I never said anything,” he reminded me.

I ignored him, brushing the last of my tears from my face. In no way was I feeling better about the situation Cas and I were in, but at the same time- he loved me. The thought put a happy glow over my mind, chasing away everything else for the time being. Cas loved me. Somehow, with that knowledge, I couldn’t help but believe what he’d said about us figuring out a solution.

He still watched me worriedly as I ate, but we both pushed our conversation to the backs of our minds. Sam and Dean didn’t know, and they were intent on making my birthday a happy occasion. I didn’t want to spoil that for them.

As soon as I finished eating they all but shoved me at the shower, and for once I wasn’t yelled at to get out before all the hot water was gone. I dressed quickly, pulling on a tank top and jeans. I kept my eye makeup simple, but used the lipstick Sam had given me, then met the boys in the living room. Cas grabbed my hand and dragged me to the impala.

“Ok,” I demanded. “Where are we going?”

Each gave me smirks but didn’t say a word, and I sighed.

We went to a bowling alley in town, where they had reserved a lane for the day. Dean went to get us shoes, and Sam turned to me with a big grin.

“You used to do this with your family, right?” he asked. 

I nodded mutely, tears in my eyes. As Dean came back I launched myself at the three of them, enveloping them in a hug that had them stumbling back. Dean dropped the shoes, but his arm came up to hug me back, as did Cas on my other side. Sam, trapped in the middle, could only lean his head against mine. After a minute I broke away, wiping at my eyes.

“Right then,” I said. “Do you three want bumpers?”

Dean snorted. “Yeah right,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

I laughed and grabbed a ball, hurling it down the lane. To my astonishment it curved left, falling right into the gutters.

“Maybe you should get bumpers,” Cas suggested.

“Shut up.”

To my relief, none of us were very good at bowling. We played two games, rolling more gutter balls than anything. We eventually moved to the game area at the back of the bowling alley, and I creamed Cas at air hockey.

“Lucy! Cas!” Sam waved at us from the bumper cars arena, and I grinned and grabbed Cas’s hand. We spent several minutes there, squealing in delight as we rammed into each other. Dean won at guitar hero, and Sam got a bunch of tickets at _Deal or No Deal_. Combined with several other games, we ended up with a several long lengths of tickets, which we used to buy one very large teddy bear.

“For you,” Cas declared. He handed me the teddy bear, which was big enough that my face was lost in its fur, and I laughed.

“Thank you,” I said. I got a mouth full of fur, and the boys all laughed as I made a face.

We sat at the table near our bowling lane, and I dangled my legs over Cas’s lap, cuddling the teddy bear to my chest. It may have been obnoxiously big and fluffy, but it was also adorable and soft.

Sam wandered off, conversing with the manager, and the man nodded and disappeared into a back room. I glared at Sam as he returned, a smug smile on his face.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” he told me.

A minute later the manager reappeared, the rest of his employees forming a long line behind him. In his hands was a very large ice cream cake, with three candles lit in the center. The larger two spelled out 18, and the third was just a simple wax stick.

“One for good luck,” Cas whispered in my ear.

The bowling alley filled with the sounds of _Happy Birthday_ , and I resisted the urge to hide behind my teddy bear as everyone in the place began to sing. As if sensing my humility Dean pulled away the bear, and I scowled. He scowled back, still singing, and I saw a gleam in his eyes.

Everyone cheered as I blew out the candles, and I was about to start pulling them out when the little wax one burst into flames again. I blew again, but a few moments later it only reignited.

“Seriously?” I turned to the boys. “A trick candle? Who did that?”

Sam raised his hand, chortling, and I resisted the urge to chuck one of the number candles at him. Someone brought a cup of water, and I hurriedly dumped the trick candle into it. One of the employees stepped forward with a cake knife, dealing out four plates of cake.

“Here.” Sam handed me a paper wrapped package, and I tore into it. “Happy birthday.”

It was a book, leather bound and old, yet still in good shape. I flipped open the cover, my fingers shaking. I recognized the book immediately. Sure enough, the front page was filled with John Winchester’s handwriting.

“We don’t really use it much anymore,” Sam told me. “And I’ve seen you eyeing it. I thought you might like to have it.”

I stared at him, tears in my eyes. “Sam- I- thank you.” I stood and wrapped my arms around him, and Sam happily returned the hug. 

“You like it then?” he asked. “Dean thought you might not.”

I rolled my eyes. “I love it,” I told him. This was their father’s journal. The old journal that they carried with them everywhere. Despite Sam’s words, I knew that they still used the old book quite a bit. Yet they were passing it on to me; their most prized possession. The gesture made me more of a Winchester than any sort of official document.

Dean handed me his own present. “Well now I’m not too sure about this,” he told me. 

I frowned and tore open the package, staring at the i-pod inside.

“It’s got all your favorite songs,” Dean told me. “For when you want to feel normal.”

I blinked back fresh tears as my eyes met his, recalling all the moments when I would go to hide in my room. Times when the stress of the Grace Crisis had been too much, and I’d fled for an hour or two. When either Sam, Dean, or Cas had come in to check on me, they’d often found me humming songs to myself.

I hugged Dean just as hard as I’d hugged Sam, and Dean squeezed me to him.

“Happy birthday baby sister,” he whispered.

I had to wipe away tears as I sat down again. Cas handed me his present nervously, and I tore open the packaging. Inside was a small black box, and I opened it to reveal a necklace. Silver and shining in the light of the bowling alley, the angel was studded with tiny rubies. I decided not to ask how Cas had gotten it, letting out a laugh.

“What?” asked Sam. “What is it?”

I giggled and showed him and Dean the necklace, and they both chuckled. I turned to Cas, who was watching me nervously.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

I nodded. “Very fitting,” I told him. I gently pulled the necklace from the box, handing it to him and turning it away. “Put it on me,” I told him.

He did, grinning, and I fingered the necklace where it hung at the base of my throat. I turned back to Cas, noting how his eyes were shining happily.

“Thank you,” I told him. 

Cas nodded, pulling me to him in a quick kiss.

“Castiel, no one wants to see that.”

We all whirled as Crowley sauntered up to the table, hands in his pockets. Immediately we were on our feet, and I rolled my eyes as the boys put themselves between me and the demon.

“Way to be subtle,” I muttered. I glanced around, but by now the inhabitants of the bowling alley had returned to their own games and weren’t paying us any attention.

Sam, Dean, Cas, and Crowley ignored me.

“What are you doing here?” Dean growled.

“Looking for you,” Crowley said. “I’ve been trying to call you all day; check your messages!”

All three boys scowled.

“We turned them off,” Sam stated. “Which means we don’t want to talk to you.”

“Clearly.” Crowley leaned to the side to look at me. “Happy birthday Lucy.”

I stiffened. “How do you know it’s my birthday?” I asked. “And how do you know my name?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “It’s on the cake,” he reminded me. “I thought you were the smart one.”

I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to start yelling at the demon. That would definitely draw attention to us.

“Crowley,” Cas growled. “What. Do. You. Want?”

Crowley sighed. “We need to talk,” he said. “It’s about my investigation over your dead relatives.” He stuck his thumb towards Cas.

“What did you find out?” asked Dean.

Crowley shot him a quick glare. “You really want to talk about this here?” When none of us responded Crowley sighed and continued. “The demon I was interrogating is dead,” he told us.

“Did you kill him?” asked Sam. “What did you find out?”

“I didn’t find out anything,” Crowley told us. “And I didn’t kill him. Someone else did.”

“Who?” 

Crowley shrugged at Dean’s question. “I don’t know. No one had access to him but me, and I only told my most trusted officials that he was even there.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Trusted officials?” I asked him. “Seriously? You’re all demons!”

“And I’m the bloody king,” Crowley snapped.

“Not for long if you don’t figure out who offed our one source of information,” Dean growled. “Dammit Crowley!”

The demon king rolled his eyes. “They’re loyal to me!”

“Who knew?” I asked. 

Crowley pursed his lips, debating what to tell me, and I sighed. 

“Crowley!”

“Not many,” he told me. “Nathaniel, my mother, Valer-”

“Hold up, your mother?” 

Crowley nodded, shifting. “Yes,” he told me. “My mother has been staying with me. She’s a-”

“Yeah, I know who she is,” I snapped. I turned to the boys. “I know who betrayed Crowley.”

Crowley blinked rapidly. “My mother?” he asked. “You’re kidding me! She’s been vital to me since she arrived; she’s identified several other weaknesses in my department!”

“And you killed them, right?” I asked. “Demons who you thought were loyal to you, but your mother convinced you weren’t? The same mother who abandoned you as a child?”

Crowley frowned. “But-”

“Crowley.” I stepped forward, ignoring how Cas tried to draw me behind him again. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. But she’s not loyal to you. She’s waiting for a chance to turn all of your kingdom against you.”

I decided not to mention that I knew all this from watching my show. Crowley may know my name, but he didn’t need to know that I was from a different universe. Somehow, I doubted that would end well.

Crowley looked lost, and despite myself I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. 

I shook my head softly. He was a demon! The king of hell! I shouldn’t be feeling bad for him; I should be driving the angel blade Cas had given me through his heart.

But I couldn’t do that. We needed him for now. And he had, last I’d seen on my show, been turning more human. He’d changed history just to save his son’s life, and despite the façade he stuck to, I could see a gleam of fondness in his eyes when he looked at Sam and Dean. Of course that look was mostly overridden by calculative greed, but it was still there.

Crowley sighed. “Ok,” he asked me. “What do we do?”

* * * *

We waited until that night to launch the plan. It had taken us several hours to get everything settled, and first we’d needed to find a safe place to discuss things. We knew better than to bring Crowley to the bunker, so we found a warehouse and drew as many protective sigils as we knew. We didn’t trust his mother, an apparently very powerful sorceress, not to be scrying us or some sort of witchy thing like that.

At last it was time. We were in an alleyway, perfectly isolated off a little side street and without any security cameras. Sam, Dean, and Crowley stood by the impala, putting on a pretend argument, and Cas and I were hiding in the shadows.

“Well, who killed him?” yelled Dean. He threw his hands up in the air, looking like he was ready to punch Crowley. Sam stood just behind him, watching his brother cautiously. They were both surprisingly good actors, and I wondered how many times they’d done something like this.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “I don’t know,” he snarled. The demon king glared back and forth between the two boys, frustration on his face. “If I did know, I wouldn’t be wasting my time talking to you idiots!”

Sam gritted his teeth. “How do we know it wasn’t you?” he asked. 

Dean’s eyes narrowed, and before I could blink he’d pulled out Ruby’s knife. He pinned Crowley to the impala, the knife at his throat. “Was it?” he asked. He shook Crowley roughly. “Was it you?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Where’s the kid?” he asked. “I think I’d like to talk to her. She’s more levelheaded.”

Dean stiffened at the mention of me, and I knew that when he pressed the dagger into Crowley’s neck just enough to draw blood, he wasn’t completely acting.

“She’s not here,” Sam stated. “We sent her somewhere safe. Somewhere away from you.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Brilliant,” he muttered.

It was then that she appeared. She strode out of the shadows, clad in a gown of deep violet that looked like something out of the middle ages. Not that it didn’t look good; it was gorgeous. It was, however, slightly out of style for the grungy alley we were standing in.

“Get away from my son,” she ordered. Her voice was a rolling Scottish accent, kept at a nonchalant placidity. That sort of calmness, I knew, was the worst possible thing. Deceptive, calculative, ruthless. She could be baking cookies while planning the best way to kill someone, and they’d never know.

She flicked her wrist, and Dean flew away from Crowley. Sam started forward, but then he too was tossed down the alleyway. There the two brothers lay, pinned to the ground by some unseen force.

“Fergus,” she lilted. “Are you alright?”

“Fine, Mother,” Crowley snapped. He stood and straightened his tux, sending Sam and Dean a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

Rowena rolled her eyes and I pressed my lips together, fighting back a smile. This was where Crowley had gotten his snark from.

“You were very upset when last we spoke,” she reminded him. “And then you went running off; I simply knew you were doing something rash. And look at this! Consorting with Winchesters? How could you?”

Crowley scowled. “I can handle them myself,” he told her. 

Rowena snorted. “Yes, it certainly appears that way,” she responded.

Crowley sighed. “Any clues yet?” he asked her. “Do we know anything?”

Rowena shook her head, and the two began to discuss their cabinet list of demons. Crowley was asking his mother for advice, and she gladly gave it. Something told me that Crowley would soon be promoting every single demon she was currently badmouthing.

As they spoke Cas crept forward. Invisible. I only knew he was there because that was what we had planned. I began counting the seconds in my head, waiting for him to reach her.

Rowena whirled, and the lightning blast that emitted from her palm sent Cas flying backwards. I had to clap my hands over my mouth to quiet my shriek as he crashed into a group of trash bins. Visible once more, he was sprawled out in a heap of trash, searching around him for the angel blade he’d dropped.

“Well, well, what have we here?” Rowena stepped forward, putting one pointy toed stiletto on Cas’s knife. “Another one?” She blinked, remembering how Cas had turned himself invisible. “You’re not of the Grand Coven,” she stated.

“No,” Cas growled. “I’m not.”

Now I crept forward, my heart pounding. I had been the last resort for the five of us; if Cas failed in taking out the witch it was my job to try. Seeing as the angel hadn’t managed, I had no idea how I was supposed to.

I edged along though, ignoring my sweating palms. I had just drawn level with Sam and Dean when Rowena whirled again, her eyes locking onto me.

“Hello,” she cooed. “Who are you?” She gasped, then clapped her hands together excitedly. “Of course,” she exclaimed. “Lucy!”

I stiffened. “How do you know my name?”

Rowena waved a hand nonchalantly. “Oh, I’ve done some digging,” she told me. “Lately, wherever those two are; you’re there with them. It wasn’t hard to figure out.” She pointed ever so briefly to Sam and Dean.

I nodded, gulping down the panic rising in me. “Let go of them,” I commanded her. When from behind me Sam and Dean began to yell at me to run I turned and shot them glares. Though it was most likely a part of the act, I knew their pleas weren’t entirely pretend. There was an urgency in both their eyes that was asking me to abandon the plan and save myself. Well, too bad. I wasn’t going anywhere. I added a quick wink, then saddled closer to Rowena. “Now,” I growled.

Rowena threw back her head and laughed. Bright red hair bounced along her back, and her throat was bared. I shifted closer, my hand going to the angel blade tucked into my belt.

When Rowena’s eyes focused on me again a moment later, they were filled with a fire that was cruel, plain and simple. “Now,” she told me, “what would be the fun in that?”

I yelped as I flew backwards, and found myself pinned to the wall of the alleyway. Now Sam, Dean, and Cas were all yelling, each pinned in their own places. I gulped as the witch approached, giving me a broad smile filled with malice.

“Fergus,” she scolded her son. “You really should be more careful. Two friends of the Winchesters have been here this whole time, and you never knew! Imagine if I hadn’t been here!”

Crowley sighed. “Yes, Mother,” he agreed. Despite the dire situation we were in I had to bite back a chuckle at the tone to his voice; he sounded like a whiny teenager.

“Now,” Rowena cooed. “What to do with you?” She cocked her head to the side. “She has to die; they all do, but let’s make it fun.” She turned to Crowley. “What do you say?”

Crowley grinned. “Always.” He drew an angel blade and stepped closer, and I narrowed my best glare at him. 

“Don’t you dare,” I growled. 

My eyes widened minutely as Crowley sent me a wink. By now he was beside his mother, idly switching the knife back and forth from each hand. “What would you suggest?” he asked Rowena.

The witch grinned and stepped forward ever so slightly, running her eyes over me like I was a slab of meat. “Well,” she started. “First we should-”

She gasped and choked to a stop as Crowley closed the distance between them, his hand raised behind her back. He stepped away, and I saw him withdraw his angel blade, now stained in blood.

“Fer-Fergus?” Rowena fell to her knees, looking beseechingly up at her son. “What- what have y-you done?”

Crowley’s eyes were hard as he glared down at the witch before him. “Don’t play stupid with me,” he warned. “I know what you’ve been up to. It ends, now.”

All at once the confusion vanished from Rowena’s face. Even as she fell forward, barely catching herself on her hands, she sent a snarl up at her son.

“If I d-die h-here, you’ll n-never know who is in-in-involved in the Gr-Grace Crisis,” she tried.

Crowley scoffed. “You don’t know,” he stated. “None of my demons trust you. I shouldn’t have either. You just wanted them to get their god, so that they could get rid of me.”

Rowena opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a spurt of blood. Then she shuddered one last time and fell forward, onto her face. This time, she didn’t move again.

Immediately Cas was by my side, her magic no longer pinning him in place. He grabbed me and began inspecting me.

“Are you alright?” he demanded.

I rolled my eyes and shoved him away. “I’m fine,” I promised. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“We’re alright too,” Sam offered. He and Dean were dusting themselves off, and though they hadn’t yet approached I knew they were watching me worriedly.

“You should have left,” Dean growled.

I rolled my eyes again. “I had a job to do,” I reminded him. “I wasn’t going to just run off.”

Dean scowled, but didn’t say anything else. I turned to Crowley. He was staring at his mother, his face unreadable, but I noticed that his hand was shaking slightly as he stored away his newly cleaned dagger. 

“So now what?” I asked.

“Now we’re back at square one,” Sam said. 

I groaned. “Fantastic.”

Crowley glanced up, locking eyes with me. They were oddly vulnerable, and I felt my face soften at the sight. 

“I’ll let you know if I find out anything else,” he promised. Then he was gone.

Suddenly I felt deflated. Something about the sight of Crowley before he’d left, as though there was a part of him that regretted killing his mother, struck at my heart. I knew it would likely haunt me for days to come, the trembling king standing over the motionless body with the bright red hair. I found myself staring at Rowena myself, noting how in death she seemed less threatening. Almost normal, if she had been in modern clothes. Everything washed away in death.

As if sensing my depressing mood, Dean sighed. 

“Let’s go home,” he suggested. 

I nodded, and Sam and Dean began to make for the car, stepping around the witch’s body without as much as a glance in her direction. I grabbed Cas’s hand before he could follow, and he turned to me with blue eyes clouded with concern.

I leaned up, pressing my lips to his. Eagerly he wrapped his arms around my torso, holding me in place, but he kept our kiss soft, gentle. More comforting than anything.

At last he pulled away, leaning his forehead against mine. We stayed like that for a moment, taking comfort in the other’s presence.

“Cas,” I whispered at last.

“Yes?” he responded. His voice was soft in the aftermath of our kiss, but there was still worry in it for me.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I know that on the show, Crowley knows by now that his mother isn't what she seems to be. Please keep in mind that I did write this before those episodes aired, so I apologize if you don't like how it doesn't match up with the show. I do my best.  
> All the same, hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	27. How Can Everything Go So Wrong So Quickly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say now that I should be sorry. I really should be.  
> But I'm not.  
> Enjoy the chapter!

“The angels are getting more panicked,” Cas said. “I’m worried one of them will do something rash.”

“Cos building their own god isn’t rash?” asked Sam.

Cas ignored him.

“Do you have any idea which angels are in on the Grace Crisis?” Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. “No.” He sat back in his chair with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. I reached over and caught his other hand, squeezing it gently.

“We’ll figure it out,” I promised. 

Cas nodded, though he looked skeptical. “I should go back,” he told me. “I’ll let you know when I’ve found something.”

I nodded, heart squeezing. “Call me tonight,” I told him. 

Cas nodded, standing and pressing a kiss to my lips. Then he was gone.

“Are you two alright?” Sam asked. His eyes were moving back and forth between me and where Cas had just stood, a worried look in them.

I shrugged. “Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

“I dunno.” Sam grabbed his computer from where it sat a few inches away. “You just seem a bit- off.”

I shrugged again. The truth was, over the past weeks since my birthday there had been a tension between Cas and I. I didn’t know if it was me drifting away from Cas or him pulling away from me, but Sam was right, something was different. A part of me couldn’t help but think that was a good thing. At least if we broke up now, it would save Cas from having to lose me in the future.

I sighed and stood, grabbing my i-pod. “I’m going to the library,” I said. “Maybe there’s something there that we missed.” I seriously doubted the fact, but I had to do something.

I plugged in my earbuds as I went through the shelves. Tapping out the rhythm of my music on my leg, I sat with a pile of books and began skimming through them. I glanced up when Dean sat beside me.

“Sam’s found a case,” he said. “You in?”

I nodded, flipping the books shut. “Yeah.” I started to rise, but Dean caught my arm. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you and Cas?” he asked. 

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about my relationship with Cas?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Now look here,” he said. “I may not be pleased about it, but if you two are happy I’m not gonna object. Except you don’t seem so happy anymore.”

I sighed. “It’s nothing,” I told him. “It’s just something we need to work through.”

Dean studied me. “You need to talk?” he asked.

I bit my lip. “Na.” I stood. “Come on. Sam’s waiting.”

Dean sighed, but followed me as I made my way from the library. I packed a bag quickly in my room, then met Sam by the car.

“What’ve we got?” I asked.

“Not sure.” Sam slid into the car, buckling his seatbelt. “We’re heading to Idaho. There were a couple of kids found in a warehouse somewhere.”

I winced. “That’s all we’ve got?” I asked.

“They were tied up,” Dean said. “Hanging from the ceiling. No apparent cause of death.”

“And you know this how?”

Sam shifted in his seat. “I may have hacked a few things,” he admitted.

I snorted in amusement.

When we got to Idaho, Sam and Dean went to dig around at the police station. I went to the warehouse, checking that there was no one around before heading in. I was glad I did, because two cops soon came strolling out, chatting quietly.

“How long do we have to stay here?” asked one.

The second shrugged. “Until our shift is over. The boss doesn’t want any more kids wandering in here. Don’t know what did what happened in there, but I wouldn’t want it happening to my kids.”

I sighed and crept away, leaving the two cops to their conversation. I met Sam and Dean back at the motel.

“Anything?” I asked.

Sam shook his head. “Not much. You?”

“There were cops at the warehouse; I couldn’t get in.” I sighed and grabbed the remote to the TV. Maybe the press had found something that might help us. They were useful occasionally. Annoying, but useful.

The local news station was just wrapping up its coverage of the warehouse case when I found the station, and I fought a wave of annoyance. It would be another half hour before they rotated the story across again. Then the next story came on, and I bolted upright on the bed.

“Mary Brookeheart was found dead in her home Sunday afternoon. Officials say that they have no leads as to who is responsible for her death…”

I tuned the reporter’s voice out as my eyes focused on the TV screen. In block letters at the bottom were the words **Live: Birmingham, Minnesota**. At the center of the screen was a picture of a brown haired, grey eyed girl clutching a camera. A girl I remembered from several months ago. A girl that had been fawning over a certain shape shifter.

“Guys.” My voice came out as a choked whisper. At the sound of my voice Sam and Dean squinted at the TV.

“What, you think it’s another case?” asked Dean. “We’ve already got one. Another hunter can handle that.”

I shook my head. “I know her,” I said. “I met her when we worked the hauntings in that town. The ones that turned out to be those shape shifter kids. She had a crush on one of them. Oh god, this is my fault…”

I trailed off, tears coming to my eyes. Immediately Sam and Dean were by my side, hugging me to them.

“This is not your fault,” Dean insisted. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam. “We don’t know what killed her. It might not be anything more than a coincidence.”

I narrowed a glare at him. “Do you really believe that?” I asked skeptically.

Sam sighed. “No,” he admitted.

I nodded. “I have to go there.” I stood, making for the door.

“Hold up.” Dean stood and put himself in my way. “No way! If this is that shifter kid, you’re not going in alone!”

I rolled my eyes. “Dean, I can handle myself. That girl told me that she liked Jake. I could have warned her away, and I didn’t. And we weren’t sure if he was going to stop the hauntings, but we let him go anyway. Now he’s killed someone, and I _know_ it’s because of me.”

Dean bit his lip. “I don’t believe that,” he told me. “And if that is true, that’s all the more reason for us to go with you.”

“You have a case here,” I said. “I can handle myself. Wrap things up here, then come join me. I can keep out of trouble for a few days.”

Dean looked about to object again, but Sam spoke up. “She’s right,” he said. “We’ve got a job here. And if this guy is killing because of us, we’ve got to be the ones to stop it. The sooner the better, cos if we don’t show up soon he’ll just kill someone else.”

Dean sighed, but stepped aside. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he warned me. “And call me when you get there. And every night. If you so much as don’t respond to a text message I am coming after you.”

I barely resisted another eye roll. “Got it,” I promised. I pulled him into a hug. “I’ll be fine.”

Dean gripped my shirt tightly, holding me to him. Finally I shoved him off me, then hugged Sam. The younger brother looked concerned as I stepped away, but he seemed to have more faith in me than Dean. I quickly slipped out the door, grabbing my bag from my room. I added several weapons from the impala into my bag, including a silver knife, then stole a car. 

As I drove I couldn’t stop thinking about Mary. She had been so sweet, so trusting. The type of girl with not enough self-confidence to chase after the boy of her dreams. I could have saved her. Just one word from me, one hint that there was something off about Jake Spinelli, and she might still be alive. Sam and Dean could say what they wanted; I knew her death was on me.

As the realization truly hit I had to pull over. Staggering from the car, I retched into the grass on the side of the road. As I finished I sank to the ground in front of the car, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my forehead against my knees. I breathed heavily, trying to calm the raging torrent of emotions inside my mind. Cars breezed past me, and I was sure there were quite a few people staring, but I honestly didn’t care.

At last I forced myself to my feet again, stumbling back to the car. I couldn’t do any good sitting on the side of the road; I couldn’t find justice for Mary crying like a baby. I took a deep breath and put the car into gear, pulling back out onto the highway.

I was forced to stop at a motel for the night, stopping somewhere in Montana. As promised, I made sure to call Dean as soon as I’d checked into a room. He still didn’t sound happy that I was working a case by myself, but he had at least resigned himself to the fact. Sam quickly took the phone before Dean could start lecturing me to be careful, but I said goodnight to them soon after. My emotions were just too racked up to talk monsters with them, and all I wanted at that moment was to sleep.

Sleep however, refused to find me, and I found myself staring at the ceiling of my motel room. Despite my promise to Sam and Dean that I would be fine, I was starting to feel a tinge of doubt in my mind. I was acutely aware that if something should go wrong the two brothers weren’t in the next room to come and help me. They weren’t even in the same state.

I shook those thoughts from my head. Nothing was going to happen; I was going to be fine. I’d worked plenty of cases before, and though the boys had always been there, I’d done plenty of the work. I could handle working one case by myself. Besides, if anything did happen, I was fairly confident Dean would break all speeding laws to get to me.

I glanced over, feeling Cas’s presence in the room. The angel had just appeared, and was staring around him in the dark room as he tried to locate me.

“I’m here,” I whispered.

A moment later Cas crawled onto the bed with me, sprawling out by my side. “Hello,” he whispered.

I smiled softly. Despite everything going on, Cas’s presence still managed to create a happy feeling in the pit of my stomach, chasing away everything else. 

“Hi,” I responded. 

“Dean said you were working a case on your own,” Cas said. “Why?”

I sighed. “Did he send you to babysit me?”

Cas chuckled. “He didn’t quite phrase it that way, though I think that’s what he was implying.”

I sighed. “I’m going to need to have a talk with him.”

Cas chuckled again, but then fell silent.

“Why are you working the case alone?” he repeated. 

I sighed and quickly explained to him the case the boys and I had previously worked in that town. Cas listened intently, silent as I gave him a run-down of what had happened. As I finally finished my tale he sighed and pulled me to him, planting a kiss on my forehead.

“Mary’s death was not your fault,” he told me.

I snorted. “So everyone keeps saying.”

Cas sighed. “That boy made his own choice,” he told me. “He chose violence. And that’s if it was even him who killed her. You don’t know that for sure.”

“Yes I do,” I objected. 

Again Cas sighed, but he didn’t comment.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asked.

I paused, then shook my head. “I can handle it,” I told him. “I need to handle it.”

Cas nodded, and I knew he understood. “Alright,” he whispered.

I sighed and shifted so that I was using his chest as a pillow. “Thank you.”

Cas nodded, his chin brushing my hair. “Of course.”

We were silent for several minutes, until Cas cleared his throat.

“I think I’ve found a solution to our problem,” he told me. “A way that we can be together.”

My breath came as a sharp intake, and I pushed myself up so that I was leaning on Cas, hardly daring to hope as I studied him in the dark room. “What?” I asked.

“I’m going to give up my grace,” Cas told me. “So we grow old together.”

I shot up, every fiber of my being filling with horror. “What? No! You can’t!”

Even in the dark room I could make out the confusion and hurt on Cas’s face. It was annoying me though, not being able to see properly, and I turned on the light. Now his expression was that much clearer, and it tore at my heart. 

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s the only way for us to be together-”

“But you’re an angel,” I protested. “You need to be an angel; you were devastated when you lost your grace. You love being an angel.”

Cas shook his head. “I love you more,” he insisted.

I ignored the gooey feeling his words caused in my heart, shaking my head fervently. “You can’t,” I pleaded. “You’re an angel. It’s who you are. I can’t ask you to change that. Not for me.”

“For us,” Cas told me. “I will do it for us.” He reached out and caught my hand, then leaned his forehead against mine. I pulled away.

“But every time you see me you’ll be reminded of what you gave up. You’ll grow old, and you’ll realize that you didn’t have to. And over time you’ll come to despise me for being what took away your life. Everything we have will fall apart. And besides that, I can’t- I can’t watch you die! And you will Cas. You’ll grow old, and you’ll whither, and you’ll die! And I can’t see that!”

Cas’s eyes burned a bright blue as he jumped forward, grabbing my shoulders with a roughness that I was unaccustomed to. “And you think I want to see that happen to you?” he demanded. “Do you think I want to sit by and watch you die? That I want to stand by your grave for centuries to come, missing you? You think I want that?”

His voice had risen with each sentence, shocking me. I’d never seen him lose control like this. Even on the show, whenever he’d been angry, whenever he’d been outright murderous, he had never been like this. He’d always managed to retain some semblance of control. Now, with his eyes alight and his body trembling, I realized that this was Cas, exposed and raw. Take away his hard outer shell and this was what you got. He was baring his heart to me, offering me himself, forever.

But I couldn’t take it. Not when it meant destroying him.

“You can visit me in heaven,” I insisted. “Right?”

Cas shook his head. “It’s not the same though,” he told me. “You would be trapped in your favorite memories, unaware of my presence. It wouldn’t even be you, not really. Just an echo.” There were tears in his eyes at the thought, and his grip on my shoulders lessened, as though he was afraid that if he squeezed too hard I would dissolve and blow away on the wind. He crushed me against his chest, burying his face in my hair, and I felt several tears dripping onto my scalp.

“Don’t make me lose you,” he whispered. “Please don’t make me.”

Tears were in my own eyes now, and I clutched at his trench coat.

“You won’t,” I promised. “We’ll figure it out.”

Cas pulled away, frowning. “So you won’t agree with my plan?” he asked.

I bit my lip. “There’s got to be another way,” I insisted.

“And if there’s not?”

I sighed. “I don’t know! Ok? I just- give me some time to think!” I stood and stalked away, rubbing at my eyes.

“Ok,” said Cas. His voice was much calmer than it had been from moments before, and I knew he was making an effort. He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and I automatically turned to him. “I’ll check in tomorrow night?” he asked.

I nodded. “I love you,” I whispered.

“Love you too.” 

Then Cas was gone, leaving me standing in my room holding nothing but thin air. For a few moments I just stood there, my arms hovering where they were. Then my knees began to tremble, and I threw myself onto my bed before I could collapse.

I couldn’t ask Cas to give up his grace. I couldn’t let him do it. I thought back to what I’d thought about his mind set; the way he sheltered himself from all that he’d been through. Half angel, half man. If he gave up his grace he’d be human; unable to escape into the divinity of heaven. Eventually, burdened by the life he’d chosen, his position would crush him. He’d been so worried about me losing my spark; I couldn’t watch him lose his. And that was exactly what would happen if I let him give up his grace.

No. I couldn’t let him do it. I let out my breath as I came to that conclusion, the thought settling determinedly in my mind. Whatever the cost, I couldn’t let him give up who he was. Even if it meant leaving him.

Every inch of my body screamed at the very thought of a life without Cas, but I shoved away the protests. If it saved him, if giving him up was the only way to protect him, then I would do it. How could I not?

After all, I loved him. And while he was willing to give up everything for me, I was willing to do the same for him.


	28. Obviously, There is Absolutely NO Way This Could End Badly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There are a few gruesome details in this chapter in describing Mary's dead body. If you get queasy from that sort of thing, you might want to skip that part. Don't skip the entire mortuary scene though, maybe just cut to where she hears footsteps outside.   
> Otherwise, enjoy the chapter!

The next morning I checked out of the motel quickly, stealing another car and hitting the road. I hadn’t actually slept the night before; I’d been so caught up with my own thoughts that sleep had been impossible, and by the time I reached Birmingham, Minnesota, I’d downed several cups of coffee. 

The first thing I did was text Sam and Dean that I’d arrived safely, and then I turned my attention to how I was going to work the case. I was far too young to pass off as a cop of any sort, and I knew sneaking into the local high school wasn’t going to work this time. Eventually I checked into a motel and settled down for the day, deciding I’d sneak into the coroner’s office that night.

Mary was still there; the mortician apparently was still trying to figure out exactly how she’d died. The fact that the cause of death was still unknown put me in a grim frame of mind for what I’d find when I arrived at the mortuary, but I diligently shoved such thoughts from my head. I couldn’t afford to think like that.

Sitting around all day left me free to think of so many things that I frankly didn’t want to think of, so I plugged in my earbuds and pulled out John Winchester’s journal, leafing through it. There was a small section in it about shape shifters, but it contained nothing that I didn’t already know. 

At last the sun set, and I hurriedly made my way to the hospital. The mortician left at eight at night, so I sat in my stolen car, munching on McDonalds, until eight thirty. Once I was confident that he would have left I slipped into the building, using the visitor’s entrance to the hospital. At the elevator I was forced to ride for several floors until I was the only one on board, then pressed the button that would take me to the basement.

Patients, and visitors to those patients, had no reason to be down there, so I knew that if I got caught I was done for. My heart pounded as the elevator doors opened, and I half expected to see a security guard waiting on the other side for me. There was no one there, and I crept forward silently, drawing out the small flashlight I’d brought. With the mortician’s departure for the day all the lights were out, and I didn’t dare turn on any in the hallway. If someone came down and found them on, they would know instantly that there was an intruder afoot.

It didn’t take me long to find the autopsy room. Large and white, dotted with metal slabs, the room reeked of hospital chemicals and of bodies left to sit in the open all day.   
Turning on the light to the room, I scanned along the rows of nametags on the doors to the holding cells until I found the one I needed; Mary Brookeheart.

With a deep breath I opened the door, pulling out the metal tray that held Mary’s body. She jostled as I slid the tray out, legs bouncing from side to side. There was a white sheet over her body, and I gingerly lifted it up. As I caught sight of her face tears filled my eyes. Her grey eyes had been closed, but her face was frozen as it had been, twisted in her final expression of agony. With labored breaths I drew the sheet down further, and had to turn away before I became sick.

Someone had carved away her skin.

Starting just below her chin and running down the rest of her body, Mary was a mess of red skin and nerves. Blood was clotted over the exposed tissue, having dried there as she bled to death. I knew instantly what the missing skin represented. A shape shifter, shedding its skin to change between forms. 

I forced myself to turn back to the body. Besides the fact that the majority of her skin had been peeled away, there was also a puncture wound in her abdomen, a thin slice that had likely penetrated vital organs. I understood what the coroner’s issue had been. Which had killed Mary first; the wound that was presumably from a knife, or bleeding out from the torture inflicted upon her?

The answer to that question didn’t really matter to my case. I had all that I needed here. I re-covered Mary and closed her back within the storage container, wincing as I locked the metal door. It seemed so final, that metallic clang. Mary was dead, and no one would ever be able to speak with her again, would ever have their picture taken by her. She could no longer joke with her family and friends; she was forever gone from them.

I leaned against the doors that housed the deceased, considering. I had no doubt Mary would be going to heaven, and while one day everyone she’d cared about would be there too, would they really be able to see each other? According to Cas, the piece of you that was in heaven was trapped in memories, unable to experience anything new. That was for the living. So, even though Mary and her family would one day end up in the same place, they would still never see each other again. The thought broke my heart into little pieces.

I pushed that from my mind. I was starting to think about Cas’s proposition, and I really wasn’t in the right frame of mind for that. Shaking my head, I started back through the room, pausing as I heard footsteps.

I cursed quietly, slapping the light switch. I didn’t dare turn on my flashlight as I was plunged into darkness; I felt my way in the dark until I found a place to hide. From what I could tell, I was sitting in between boxes of medical supplies underneath steel shelves pushed against a wall. Hopefully I was in a good enough positon that whoever was about to enter wouldn’t see me.

A moment later they came in, and I blinked as the lights were again turned on. I didn’t dare move; I hardly breathed. Just in front of me stalked a pair of brown boots, well-worn and bearing what looked like little flecks of blood. The thought made me shiver, and my hand inched towards the pocket knife I had on me. 

There was a metallic scraping sound as whoever was there opened one of the body cells, and I frowned. Something told me this new person wasn’t the mortician. So who were they?

“I know you’re there,” he said. “You might as well come out.”

I almost jumped at the sound on his voice, holding my breath. Maybe he’d been talking to someone else, some third party lurking in the doorway. But when after a minute no one spoke or stepped into the room, I had to admit that he’d been talking to me. Reluctantly I crawled out of my hiding place, wishing I had thought to bring my angel blade to the hospital with me.

The man across the room from me wasn’t even glancing in my direction, instead examining Mary’s body. Tall and muscular, with neatly trimmed blond hair, he wore blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt.

“What do you think?” he asked. “I’ve never seen something like this.”

I blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry?” I asked.

Now the man turned to me with chocolate brown eyes, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a hunter, right? Have you seen anything like this before?”

“You’re a hunter?” I asked.

“What else would I be?” he asked. Then he seemed to realize the stupidity of his words, because he made a face. “Ok, scratch that. Yes, I’m a hunter.”

I nodded and stepped forward, drawing out my small vial of holy water. The man’s eyes flashed to the canister, but before he could react I’d splashed him with the contents. For a moment he simply stood there in shock, then slowly reached up to wipe the water off his face. I held out the silver knife I’d had stuffed in my belt, and with a sigh he took it. The small cut he made on his wrist didn’t boil or turn colors, so I determined that he was, in fact, what he said he was.

“Happy?” He asked. He looked slightly annoyed as he handed the knife back.

I nodded. “Had to check,” I told him. “I’m Lucy.” I held out my hand, and after eyeing it for a moment he reached out and shook it.

“Jackson,” he told me. He sighed, glancing back to where Mary was. “So, have you seen anything like this before?”

I shook my head. “But I have a fairly good idea what did it.”

Jackson’s eyebrows rose again in surprise. “What?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Sorry. I don’t work with others.” 

I began to back away. Something about Jackson just didn’t feel right; my instincts were urging me to get away from him. As a general rule my instincts were right, and I had learned to trust them. I had no idea what was off about him, just that I probably didn’t want to find out while standing in a deserted hospital mortuary with him.

Jackson frowned. “Come on,” he called. “We might as well work together. We’re both here.”

“Nope, sorry.” 

I reached behind me to grab the door handle, twisting it open. Before Jackson could respond I was gone, all but running back up the hallway. I only relaxed once I was safely inside the elevator, slumping back against the wall. As I exited the hospital I pulled out my phone, hitting the speed dial button.

“Hey Dean,” I said. “Have you ever heard of a hunter named Jackson?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line as Dean thought. “No,” he told me. “But that doesn’t mean much. Hunters don’t really have a membership list. Hold on, let me put you on speaker.”

“Hey Lucy,” called Sam.

“Hey,” I responded. “Have you heard of a hunter called Jackson?”

“Nope. Do you have a last name?” asked Sam.

I frowned. “No.”

Dean sighed. “What’s going on?” he asked. 

I quickly filled him in on what was happening, and both boys muttered several curses as I told them about what had happened to Mary.

“Do you want us to come help you?” asked Sam.

I paused. Did I? A part of me wanted to say yes, but the logical part of me knew that I needed to do this myself. Or maybe that was the prideful part of me. Either way, I had to do this alone.

“I’ve got it,” I promised. “How’s your case going?”

“We’re thinking a djinn,” Dean said. There was a sad note to his voice, remembering a past experience with one and the happy world it had shown him. I knew better than to comment on it; sometimes, Dean just needed to work through things on his own.

“Good luck,” I said. 

Dean grunted in reply, and I sighed.

“I should go,” I said. “I’ll call you when I head to bed.”

Both boys said goodbye, and I hung up the phone, sighing as I stuffed it back in my pocket. That hadn’t gotten me anywhere.

There were too many security cameras for me to steal a car, so I started across the parking lot at a fast walk, planning to take one somewhere a little less watched. I paused as I heard a noise, a small clanking off to the side. Then an invisible force slammed me into a car, and I grunted as my elbow went through the glass.

I scrambled to my feet, whirling to face the demon coming at me with a grin. It held an angel blade in its hand, and now I was _really_ wishing that I’d brought my own.

It charged, and I dove to the side to avoid the flashing metal. I rolled quickly to my feet, pulling out the flask of holy water and uncapping it. The demon screamed as the skin on its face sizzled, dropping the knife. I dove forward, grabbing for it, but just as I was about to hit the ground the demon grabbed me by my hair and yanked up. I cried out as its fingers dug into my scalp, and a moment later they were gone, the demon’s hand moving to wrap around my throat. It lifted me with ease, not caring at all about how I was kicking and scratching at it. 

What was it with demons and choking people? My vision started to go red, my lungs on fire, just like the first time I’d fought a demon. Like that time, it ended in the same way.

I gasped as I fell to the pavement, clutching at my throat as I panted. My vision slowly returned to normal, and only then did I glance up at my savior.

“Are you alright?” asked Jackson. He held out a hand to help me up, worry shining in his eyes, and I nodded.

“Fine, thanks.” 

I ran my eyes up and down him; he stood beside where the demon had fallen, the angel blade it had dropped clutched in his hand. Jackson nodded and inspected the blade, then, after wiping it off on the demon’s shirt, tucked it under his belt.

“Were you following me?” I asked. Now that I was not longer squaring off against a demon my uncertainties about Jackson were returning, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

Jackson shrugged. “You said you knew what happened to that girl. Yeah, I followed you. You would have too.” 

I sighed and made a face. He was right; I would have followed him had our positions been switched. The fact that he had done so had even been a good thing; it had just saved my life. As such, I was finding it a bit hard to find any purchase in making a case against him.

That didn’t mean I needed to work with him. 

“Well, thanks for the help,” I said. I started to back away, and Jackson rolled his eyes.

“Come on now,” he said. “I just saved your life; you owe me.”

My eyebrow rose. “I don’t owe you a thing,” I snapped. “You killed a demon; big whoop, that’s your job.”

Jackson sighed. “I’ll just follow you again,” he warned me. “So we might as well work together; it’ll be easier for the both of us.”

“I can be pretty hard to keep track of,” I promised. 

I was still backing away, something that hadn’t escaped Jackson’s notice. He took a step forward, and when I immediately pulled out my pocket knife he held up his hands.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “Why don’t you want to work with me?”

“I don’t know you,” I pointed out. 

Jackson nodded slowly, thinking.

“What if you did?” he asked. “Would you work with me then?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Depends on what you’re like.” I cocked my head to the side. “Why do you want to work with me so badly?”

Jackson flashed me a quick grin. “Because I’ve got good instincts about people, and I can tell you’re a good hunter. I’m always looking to learn new tricks. Plus, you’re very pretty.” His eyes flashed, and then he paused. “You are an adult, right?” he asked. “You don’t just look older than your age?”

I rolled my eyes. “None of your business. I have a boyfriend.”

“Really?” Jackson’s eyes were lit up with curiosity. “How do you manage that? Does he know what you are?”

I nodded. “He’s the one who got me into the business.”

Jackson nodded. “Cool. Ok. Well, I’d still like to see how you hunt.”

I sighed; I could tell he wasn’t going to leave the matter alone. 

“Fine,” I agreed. “Meet me downtown in one hour. At the Starbucks next to the park.”

Jackson nodded, apparently deciding not to ask where I would be going first that I needed an hour to meet him. “I’ll be there,” he promised. “And then we can work together?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see what happens.” 

With that I turned and walked off, glancing back after reaching the end of the parking lot. The place where Jackson had just been standing was now empty; he’d left too. I hadn’t even heard him walk off. All that was left was the dead demon, blood still soaking the ground beneath its torso. I quickly turned away, jogging across the street.

I took my time getting back to my motel room, winding in a random pattern through the streets and slipping in and out of crowds in case I was being followed still. Once my motel room door was locked behind me I dug my angel blade out of my bag, stuffing it into the back of my jeans. I added a small gun to my ankle, then made sure that everything I had brought to Minnesota with me was stuffed in my bag, ready for me to grab if I needed to leave quickly.

I was the first to arrive at the Starbucks, and I quickly grabbed a table in the back corner, sitting against the wall as I watched the door. By now a drizzle had started outside, and a fine mist had descended over the streets. When Jackson entered he had donned a navy blue windbreaker, pulling the hood up to shield his face from the rain, so it took me a moment to recognize him. At that point he was halfway across the room to me, and I scrambled to subtly pull out my gun. I set it in my lap, underneath my own jacket, barrel pointed right at him.

“So,” he began. “What do you want to know?”

I shrugged. “Anything. Where are you from?”

“New Jersey,” Jackson said. 

I crinkled my nose, and he laughed.

“What about you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “This is about you, not me. I’ll ask the questions; you just answer them.”

Jackson’s eyebrow twitched. “If I’m going to spill all my family secrets, the least you can do is tell me a few things about you. A tradeoff.”

“Our tradeoff is you tell me about yourself, and if I decide you’re trustworthy I, a, don’t kill you, and b, work with you.”

“Please?” Jackson pleaded. 

I sighed; the man was giving me a puppy dog face that I simply could not refuse. I’d always been a sucker for those, and it seemed that they were just as adorable on grown men as they were on little kids.

“New York.” I didn’t specify if I meant upstate or the city, leaving things to Jackson’s imagination. “How did you get into hunting?”

“It just sort of happened,” Jackson told me. “I was a teenager at the time. I was walking home from work when I saw this guy. He didn’t look like he was up to any good, so I followed him. Turned out he was on his way to kill some vamps. When he caught me watching him he explained everything to me, and I decided to try my hand at the business. I just never stopped. Why should I?”

I nodded, stirring my cup of coffee. 

“What about you?” asked Jackson. “You said your boyfriend got you into hunting?”

I nodded, thinking over my response carefully. “Not much to tell there. He saved my life, and I started to hunt. At the same time we started to go out, and the rest just fell into place.”

“Is it serious?” asked Jackson. He studied me curiously, and I scowled.

“That’s not really your business,” I said. I ignored the gnawing of my stomach his mention of Cas was igniting. As of now, I wasn’t sure where our relationship was headed. Chances were there very soon wouldn’t be one.

“I guess it would need to be,” he assumed. “I mean, for you to start running around at night chasing monsters together, you got to really love each other. And you’ve got to trust each other with your lives.”

I paused, then smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah,” I admitted. “We do.”

I sighed, and Jackson hurried to ask another question. 

“What about family?” he asked. “Do you have any?”

I paused, unsure how to respond. My automatic response was to tell him that I had two older brothers, but that wasn’t entirely true. What did it even mean that I hadn’t even thought of Jackie and Peter at first?

It didn’t matter either way. I couldn’t risk divulging who they were. There were versions of the twins in this world, and though they weren’t technically my little siblings, I would rather die than let something happen to them.

“I’ve got two older brothers,” I answered. “What about you?”

Jackson shrugged. “I’ve got some brothers and sisters,” he told me. “I don’t really talk to them very much.”

“Why not?”

Again Jackson shrugged. “We don’t really have the same opinions on things,” he confided. “It just never really ends well when we’re all together.”

I grimaced. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I gave Jackson a small smile, and he returned it. With a small shock I realized that I had meant my words. I sighed, leaning back in my seat to think. Did that mean that I was beginning to trust Jackson? I didn’t think so; he was still too new, but I was at least no longer worried about him slitting my throat the moment I turned away.

“Ok,” I said finally. “You can work with me. But you do as I say, when I say it. I’m in charge here, not you.”

Jackson nodded, all serious looking, but a moment later a grin split his mouth. 

“Deal.” He held out his hand, and reluctantly I took it. “So, Partner. What next?”


	29. And... It Ended Badly

I quickly filled Jackson in on the previous case the boys and I had worked in Birmingham, and my suspicions about who had killed Mary. Jackson listened silently, and I could see a quiet flame burn in his eyes as I spoke. When I finished speaking he sat back and nodded, frowning slightly.

“Alright,” he said. “Are you sure it’s this Jake kid?”

I bit my lip, my gaze sweeping to the street outside. “Pretty sure,” I said. “But I’m not planning on just charging in and killing him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Jackson nodded, his face musing. He too glanced out at the street, and then his eyes found mine again. 

“Well,” he said. “We might as well start now. Do you have any idea if he’s home?”

I shrugged, standing. “Let’s find out.”

I stole a car from down the street, unwilling to isolate myself in a vehicle with Jackson. Just because I was working with him didn’t mean that I now trusted him, and I wasn’t taking any chances. He followed behind me as I guided the car through the streets, which were lined with puddles, each reflecting the light of the streetlamps above. It took about a half hour to get to Jake’s house, where I let the car idle in front of the drive. 

I inspected the house, noting how several lights were on. One of the cars was missing from the driveway though, so the question was, who was home and who wasn’t? 

I jumped as Jackson knocked on my window, then rolled it down with a scowl.

“You ready?” he asked. 

I nodded and jumped out of the car, leading the way up to the house. There I looked in the front window, but there were blinds drawn over it that prevented me from seeing anything. I edged around the house to the glass door at the back, cautiously peering inside. Sitting on the couch in the living room was Tony, Steve, Henry, and Noah, each talking quietly. What they were discussing I couldn’t be sure about, but judging by the scowls on their faces, it didn’t look pleasant. Each glanced up as Jake entered with several bags of chips and cans of soda, placing them on the coffee table. He sat and downed one of the cans, and I noticed that a silence had settled over the room, as though everyone was waiting. At last Jake set down the can and sighed, and his eyes raked over his friends.

“What do we do if they come back?” asked Steve. His eyes swept to all the exits to the room nervously, and Jackson and I quickly ducked out of sight. “What do we do then?”

Jake shrugged, yet despite the nonchalant demeanor to his tone as he responded, I could sense that he was just as worried as his friends. “We tell them the truth. They’ll have to believe us.”

Noah snorted. “Don’t count on it. The girl was alright; but those two guys…” he trailed off and shook his head, then gave a short shudder. With a start, I realized they were talking about Sam, Dean, and I. “They’d probably kill us anyways, even if they did believe us.”

“They did say that they wouldn’t be so nice the next time they saw us,” Tony whispered.

“Look,” said Jake. “It won’t come to that. We’ll tell them the truth, and that’ll be that.”

“And if it’s not?” Henry stood, glaring full force at Jake. “What then? Do you really think we can take on three hunters and win? And that’s if they don’t bring back up!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “They’re not going to bring others,” he admonished. “And the girl should be easy enough to handle. Plus, we outnumber them.”

Henry’s face twisted in a fearsome scowl. “They’re hunters. There could be one of them and twelve of us; I don’t care!” He leveled a finger at Jake. “You got us into this mess, you can get us out. I am not dying for your stupidity!”

I decided that I’d seen enough. “Stay here,” I whispered to Jackson. I moved back to the front door, then knocked loudly. I could imagine each shape shifter inside going white, imagining the worst, but a minute later I heard footsteps approaching. When Jake opened the door he spotted me immediately, and his face took on a sickly coloring. 

“No!” He tried to slam the door shut in my face, but I had already thrust my foot inside. Wincing as the hard wood slammed against my leg, I began to wriggle my way into the gap. Realizing that I was going to get in, Jake backed away and ran for the living room.

“They’re here!” he shouted. “Run!”

Again they skidded to a stop at the back door, where Jackson stood waiting. The boys scanned around them, and I moved so that I was halfway between the door and the entrance to the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t try anything,” I advised them. “Sit; let’s talk.”

The boys gulped and traded looks, then nodded and took seats on the couch. The confidence that had pervaded Jake before had flooded out of him, and he all but cowered into the couch cushions. I let Jackson into the house; apparently he was incapable of picking a lock, and the two of us stood side by side in front of the five teenagers.

“Alright,” I said. “Let me catch up on things. The last time I was here my brothers and I told you that there would be consequences if you hurt anyone else. Now you’ve gone past haunting people; you’ve tortured someone. Brutally killed a person who had been fawning over you.” I pointed accusingly to Jake, and his eyes widened.

“She liked me?” he asked. He traded looks with his friends, eyes wide, and I sighed at the horrified look on his face. Something was telling me I had been wrong. “I-I didn’t even know. She was just some girl in school.”

“What happened?” I asked. My voice was surprisingly gentle, causing everyone in the room to glance up at me sharply. “I heard you talking just now; what’s your side of things?”  
Jake bit his lip. “You wouldn’t believe us,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening, aren’t I? Tell me, and we’ll find out.”

Jake nodded. “Alright. We didn’t kill her. We never even spoke to her, but Henry says he remembers that you were talking to her when you were here.” He glanced over to Henry, who nodded, then back to me.

I chose not to confirm that, pursing my lips. “And then?”

“We saw on the news that she had been killed,” Jake said. “We have no idea how, or- or anything. We just knew you’d think it was us.”

My eyebrows drew together in confusion as I studied their faces. Each boy was pale and trembling, waiting to see what my reaction would be, and I knew that they were telling the truth. 

“So who killed her?” I asked. “Someone peeled off her skin; they wanted me to think it was you. Who would have done that?”

“They did what?” Steve shot up, his face turning green as a horrified expression came over his face. “Oh my god. Oh my-”

“Do not pray to god,” spat Jackson. “He will not answer to abominations. Shape shifters.” 

I glanced over to him sharply. Disgust was written across his face, and his fingers twitched towards the knife I knew was concealed in his belt. Hurriedly I reached over and grabbed his wrist.

“What the hell?” I asked. 

Jackson spun to face me, fury in his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if they killed the girl or not,” he told me. “They are monsters. Creatures of darkness. They cannot be allowed to live.”

I shook my head. “If they don’t hurt anyone, there’s no reason to kill them,” I protested. 

Jackson opened his mouth to object, but I cut him off, raising my hand. 

“You should wait for me outside.”

Jackson shook his head. “I don’t trust them,” he told me. His eyes flickered to the couch, where the boys were watching us in terror. “I won’t leave you alone with them.”

I gritted my teeth. “I can handle myself. Remember what I said? If you work with me, you have to do what I say. Now go wait outside!”

Jackson tensed, and for a moment I thought he was going to object. Then he gave a terse nod and stalked from the room, letting the front door bang shut behind him.

I paused for a moment to collect myself from my shock. That had been very unlike Jackson. Even after only knowing him for a couple of hours, I had discerned that he was generally a pretty amiable guy. His sudden intense hatred was unsettling, and I was again questioning my decision to work with him. I shook my head, pushing my worries back. I could deal with Jackson later.

I turned back to the boys, then grabbed a nearby garbage can and held it out for Steve. He immediately hurled the contents of his stomach into the bin, then collapsed back on the couch, clutching the garbage can in his arms.

“Who peels off someone’s skin?” asked Noah.

I shrugged, pretending that I wasn’t as sickened by the act as they were. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Each boy shook their heads fervently. 

“We have no idea,” said Tony. “Please.”

I nodded, once again feeling inclined to believe them. I sighed; that put me at square one. “Alright,” I said. “I believe you.”

All five boys visibly relaxed, and I took a step back. “I’ll still be keeping an eye on you,” I told them. “But if you stay out of trouble I won’t come back.”

They nodded. 

“Fine by us,” muttered Jake.

I sighed, resisting the urge to snap something unkind at him, and went to the front door. I didn’t bother saying goodbye; I doubted they were very upset about that. Jackson was waiting on the front stoop, where he was glowering at the door, most likely considering rushing back inside after me. As I closed the front door behind me he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, glaring at me.

“Well?” he asked. “Did they do it?”

I shook my head. “No. Which means we’ve got nothing.”

Jackson nodded. “We should kill them,” he said. “They don’t deserve to-”

“Stop it.” I moved to stand just in front of him, resisting the urge to stand on my toes so that we were eye level with each other. “We might be hunters, but we can’t just go around killing everything. Those are kids in there. They haven’t hurt anyone, and unless they do we can’t kill them.”

“Except they have,” growled Jackson. “Remember?”

I sighed. “That was an accident. They’re not monsters. If you think that they deserve to die for the possibility that they might kill someone, you might as well just start stabbing everyone you see. Everyone has that potential. Aren’t we proof of that? Hunters are more or less professional killers. When you look at things, how are we so much better than the monsters?”

Jackson bared his teeth. “We only kill the bad ones,” he stated. “The evil ones.”

I pointed back into the house. “And they aren’t evil. We’re leaving. Now. If you try to hurt them without just cause, I will stop you.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “You would kill me?” he asked.

I lifted my chin, narrowing a glare at him. “Yes.”

For a moment we glared at each other, and then Jackson glanced away, his face twisting into a scowl. 

“Let’s go,” he commanded. “We have a case to work.”

I followed him down the steps, glancing briefly back toward Jake’s house. I could faintly see a curtain twitch as I swung myself into my stolen car, but other than that nothing moved.

“Let’s go to where Mary was found,” I called to Jackson. 

I let Jackson lead the way, not wanting to take my eyes off of him. I was worried that he would take the opportunity to circle back to Jake’s house and kill him and his friends. Yet he didn’t try to lose me as we went through the streets, and eventually we came to the local cemetery. Jackson led the way through the tombstones, right up to a large mausoleum standing at the center of the graveyard. Tall and made of white marble, it was lined with angels that were locked in various poses of grief, contrasting sharply with the yellow police tape that surrounded the place.

We ducked under it together, nudging open the door to the mausoleum. I glanced around as we entered, but there wasn’t anyone around. Still, I closed the door behind us, so that anyone who decided to visit the cemetery- if anyone actually visited cemeteries this late at night- wouldn’t know that there was someone in the mausoleum. 

I scanned around me. The inside of the mausoleum was made of large blocks of stone, fitted precisely together. Four stone boxes- tombs- were set into the center of the floor, side by side with about a foot of space in between them. I edged closer, my eyes falling to the red stuff that coated the second tomb, splashed onto the surrounding walls, and dripped onto the floor. Blood.

“She went missing for two days,” Jackson told me. His eyes were hooded, sad as he studied the place where Mary had died. “Then relatives of whoever is buried here came to visit; found her. She wasn’t tied up or anything; just lying there.”

I frowned. “She wasn’t tied up? There must have been more than one of them; whoever killed her. They would have needed to hold her down.”

Jackson nodded. “At least five,” he told me. “Four to hold each limb, a fifth to actually kill her.” His eyes narrowed, and I knew he was thinking back to the five teenage boys we’d just left.

“It wasn’t them,” I insisted. “They’re idiots, but not murderous. They were sickened by what we told them; there’s no way they could have done it.”

Jackson turned to me, studying me in the dark room. “Some people are good actors,” he told me. His voice was deep, filled with something I couldn’t quite discern. A warning maybe? I pushed it aside. Once I was done with this case I wouldn’t need to see Jackson anymore.

I lifted my nose and sniffed at the air as something caught my attention. “Do you smell that?” I asked.

Jackson frowned, lifting his head slightly. “What?” he asked. His eyebrows drew together, and he nodded. “There’s something. What is it?”

My eyes narrowed. “Sulfur.”

Jackson’s eyes widened in recognition. “Which means demons,” he stated. “Do you think…”

I nodded. “I think so.” I paused, my eyebrows creasing together. “It doesn’t make sense though. Why would demons go after Mary? What reason did they have?”

Jackson shrugged. “They’re demons. They wreak havoc and death. Do they need a reason?”

“For this, yes.” I moved to the door; I needed to get back to the privacy of my motel room so I could call Sam and Dean. “It’s just too big of a coincidence. There’s no chance that out of an entire world full of people to kill, they chose the one girl in this town that I spoke to. It’s almost as though they knew it would draw me here.”

I paused just outside the mausoleum. Not almost, that was exactly what had happened, I realized. My heart rate sped up as I scanned around me in the dark. This was a trap.

“That was their plan all along,” I told Jackson. “To lure me here.” I spun to face him, feeling the blood drain from my face. “Why?”

“Because,” came a voice from behind me. “You’re special.”

I spun, my eyes falling to the demon standing before me that hadn’t been there a moment before. As it grinned at me black eyes flashed, and I gulped. Out of the corners of my eyes I could see many other demons approaching, seven of them, each giving me sadistic grins as they pulled angel blades out. I drew my own blade, and behind me Jackson did the same.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I forced down my heart, which had risen to my throat, tightening my grip on the knife. “How am I special?”

The demon in front of me took a step forward, and I automatically raised the knife. “You’re a Winchester,” it spat. “Not just that, but you’re Castiel’s little pet human. With you as leverage, we can make him do anything.”

I gulped, then forced down my panic. His words meant that they needed me alive, at least for now. They wouldn’t chance killing me. If I could break out I could call Cas, and he would come and get me.

Then I focused on the fact that they needed Cas, and my eyes narrowed. What did they want him for? They weren’t going to lay a single hand on him. Or my brothers.

“Too bad you won’t have your leverage,” I spat. I slipped into a fighting pose, daring the demons to come any closer, and they each let out a laugh.

“You’re outnumbered,” said one. “Do you really think you can defeat us?”

I bit my lip. Even with Jackson’s help, there was very little chance I would be able to fight them off. I quickly settled on another course of action, sending the demons a grin as I raised my angel blade to my throat.

“I don’t need to,” I stated. “You need me alive if you’re going to use me. I can put an end to all that right here, right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

I pressed the knife against my throat, forcing myself not to wince as it pierced my skin. “I would.” 

The demons’ eyes zeroed in on the blood that was running down my neck, and they each lowered their daggers. Behind me Jackson stepped forward, his angel dagger in one hand and a rock salt gun in the other. He glanced over and sent me a small nod, telling me that he wasn’t going anywhere. We would get out of here, together.

I sighed and loosened the pressure against my neck. “When I say run,” I whispered. “Run!”

I spun and sprinted in the opposite direction, past the mausoleum. Behind me there were several snarls as the demons gave chase, but they had been caught off guard. Only Jackson was able to keep up, pounding through the carefully tended grass beside me.

“There are too many,” he called. He leapt lithely over a tombstone, glancing behind him to the demons pursuing us. 

“I know!” My eyes zeroed in on the edge of the graveyard, marked by a fence of metal rungs woven together. Past the fence stretched a section of forest, though I had no idea how large it was. Hopefully it cleared out to the road soon, and even if it didn’t, we would at least have the cover of trees to hide us. “Get over the fence! We’ll be safe once we reach town. They won’t dare attack in public.”

Jackson sent me a look that said he wasn’t entirely sure about that, but he nonetheless pushed ahead. We really didn’t have much choice other than that. As we neared the fence I leapt at it, clambering up and over. Jackson followed just behind, clambering awkwardly down the other side.

“Hurry up!” I glanced over to see the demons sprinting after us. One raised a small knife, glinting dully, and lobbed it towards us. It soared through the air, only its flashing under the moonlight alerting me to where it was, and a moment later Jackson screamed. He had his hand pressed to his left shoulder, where the knife now protruded.

I cursed under my breath as he scrabbled for the knife’s hilt, and I grabbed his hand before he could pull it free.

“Leave it,” I commanded him. “It’s stopping the worst of the bleeding, and we don’t have time to stop.” 

I ignored the pained look Jackson gave me as I started to run again, dragging him with me. At first he stumbled, but he then regained his balance, drawing level with me again as the first of the demons vaulted the fence.

I knew we couldn’t go far. Even with the knife’s presence staunching the majority of the blood, there was still a dark red stain spreading out from Jackson’s shirt. He winced with each step we took, teeth gritted.

I skidded to a stop, shoving Jackson at the tree we were standing in front of. “Climb; quickly.”

Jackson paused for only a moment before doing as I said. I placed my hands on the bottom of his back to help shove him upward, and as he pulled himself onto the first branch I hauled myself up after him. Together we climbed, barely managing to conceal ourselves within the thick leaves of the tree before the demons barreled into sight. By then Jackson and I were sitting side by side on a branch, Jackson closest to the trunk. I leaned forward slightly, holding my breath as I tried to spy the demons through the branches of the leaves. They had come to a stop just beneath our tree, and were staring around them in confusion.

“Where’d they go?” snarled one. It lifted its head and sniffed at the air, lip curling back. Then it grinned, pointing upward at me. “There.”

My breath came out in a hiss as the other demons followed its gaze, each adopting feral grins on their faces. Quickly they spread out around the tree, cornering us where we sat. 

“Come out, come out,” called one. “We know you’re there.”

I glanced back to Jackson, ignoring my irritation at the fact that he’d pulled the knife from his shoulder. It couldn’t be helped now. I took a moment to inspect his wound; it didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore. Or maybe I just wasn’t seeing the blood in the dark.

“What do we do?” I asked. I scanned around us, but the surrounding trees were too far off to jump to, and either way, I doubted Jackson would make it. Panic filled me as I realized this; deep down, I knew we were out of options. “We can’t stay here, but we can’t leave. We’re trapped.”

Jackson nodded. “I know,” he told me. “That was the plan.”

I didn’t have time to comprehend his words; before I could he lunged forward, giving me a shove. I screamed as I fell from the branch, clutching automatically at the branches I passed as I fell. I landed hard, my head bouncing, and pain flared through my skull. My vision flickered red.

The next thing I was aware of was laughter. I blinked stupidly, trying to force my muddled mind to work. A face entered my vision, black eyes boring down at me, and the demon standing above me grinned.

“Nighty night,” he called. Then there was a sharp burst of pain on the back of my head, and everything went black.


	30. Endgame

As it always seems to happen, the first thing I was aware of was the pain. A throbbing that started at the back of my head, spreading through the rest of my skull in waves that were sharp and constant. I groaned, and the sound only strengthened the pounding. Wearily I blinked my eyes, automatically trying to stretch. I found that something was hindering my movement, and the panic that rose within me woke me up fully.

I was sitting in a chair, old and made of wood, nothing fancy. Ropes bound my wrists to the arms of the chair, and my ankles were tied to the legs. There was even another rope that wrapped around my waist, encircling me tightly against the back of the chair. Nonetheless I wriggled, small noises of fear working their way up my throat. After a minute I calmed myself though, forcing myself to take deep breaths in and out. So I was tied to a chair. I’d been possessed by demons, kidnapped by werewolves, and a whole bunch of other dangerous and seemingly hopeless things. I’d gotten through each of them; I could get through this.

I raked my eyes around me, studying the place that I was in. It was a warehouse, old and filled with cobwebs. There were body parts to long since abandoned machines scattered around, and a few metal pieces of rubbish lay here and there. There was a series of odd symbols lining the walls, repeating over and over again around the perimeter of the warehouse. Towards the center of the warehouse there was a stain on the floor, dark, though exactly what color it was I couldn’t tell from my position. What drew my attention though was the table that sat by the stain, directly at the center of the warehouse. It was bare except for a bottle that stood at its center, a bottle that had probably once held some sort of liquor, but was now holding a swirling silver mass. Angel grace.

My heart pounded, and my struggles stopped. This was no longer just about me getting free. If I could take the grace, even just smash it against the floor, it would be gone, unusable. First though, I needed to work out a way to free myself.

I turned as someone cleared their throat from behind me. It was several demons, who I recognized from the chase through the graveyard. They sidled up, seeming to greatly enjoy my winces as I twisted my neck at an uncomfortable angle to see them.

“It’s about time you woke up,” said one. “You’ve been out for a whole day.”

A whole day? How had I been out for a whole day? Sam and Dean would be on their way to Minnesota by now, and if they hadn’t phoned Cas already, they soon would. They were going to play right into the demons’ hands, fall right into the trap.

I took a deep breath. I couldn’t panic. Not now. 

“Where are we?” I asked. 

The demons grinned, apparently deciding not to answer.

“Leave her alone.” 

I turned again as another voice sounded behind me, one that I recognized well. Jackson stepped forward, giving the demons a scowl. 

“She’s awake; get the cam ready.”

The demons grumbled, but moved off, and Jackson came to stand in front of me. The amiable demeanor that had pervaded him earlier was gone, and he seemed completely serious, like he’d never even heard of a joke.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I scowled. “You pushed me out of a tree, what do you care?” I glanced away, then back. Jackson hadn’t bothered changing out of his blood stained clothes, and I surveyed his shoulder curiously. It seemed fine, as though he’d never been stabbed to begin with. Seeing my look, he sighed.

“I healed myself,” he told me. 

I frowned. “Demons can’t do that.” I paused then. He couldn’t be a demon; he hadn’t reacted when I’d splashed him with holy water. So what was he?

“Angels can heal themselves,” he answered. 

My gaze went up to his face sharply, and he offered me a grim smile.

“Who else?” I asked. “Or are you the only angel involved in this?” 

“No,” Jackson answered. “There are a few others. I believe that out of them all, you have met Yvonne.” He pointed across the room, to where an olive skinned woman with dark hair smoothed neatly down her back stood, conversing with two other men. Since she wore only a slight scowl as they spoke, and not an outright look of disgust, I guessed that they were all angels.

“So, where are we?” I asked. I glanced around me at the warehouse; I could worry about who was who later; in the grand scheme of things it didn’t really matter. 

“Montana,” Jackson told me. “An old abandoned warehouse, out in the middle of nowhere.”

My eyes widened, and I again glanced around me. Montana? Could this be the warehouse, the one where this had all started? Gazing again at the dark stain on the floor, which was dark enough to be blood- my blood- I realized that yes, this was the same warehouse. I gulped, my breath coming heavier as a knot twisted my stomach. Something told me that it was no coincidence that the angels and demons behind the Grace Crisis had chosen this of all places as their hideout.

“You know this place,” Jackson guessed. He studied me curiously, chocolate brown eyes brooding, and his head tilted to the side. “Tell me.”

I snorted. “Like hell I will. Answer me this, why are you doing all this? Why do you want to build your own god?”

Jackson sighed. “Castiel tried to enforce free will,” he told me. “But it’s not working. The angels need someone to tell us what to do, some great being to give our presence meaning.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you? You say you want someone to make the decisions, but you made a decision to go and create your god. It may have been a really dumb decision, but it was still a decision.”

Jackson nodded, apparently in agreement as he knelt down in front of me, squatting so that we were at the same level. “A god would prevent the need for such drastic and dumb measures in the future,” he told me. “A just god, a god that cared about the world would-” he broke off, eyes straying over to the demons, and I sensed what he was thinking. That his god would destroy all the demons, once and for all. 

“You don’t know what that god would be like,” I told him. “It might destroy the demons, yeah, but it might do the opposite. What if it decides that it’s a vengeful god? That it would rather tear down the world than build it up?”

Jackson blinked, pausing, and I sensed that he hadn’t really thought about that possibility before. Then he shook his head, his gaze steeling. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

I sighed, but before I could say anything else the demons approached again, grinning. 

“Ready?” asked one.

I frowned. “Ready for what?”

Their grins only strengthened as a second table was carried over, a laptop set on top of it. I watched curiously, noting how the laptop was open, what looked like a skype screen set up, and a bright little light at the top of the computer signaling that the camera was on. Then someone wrapped a gag around my mouth, and I began to bark out curses through it.

“Quiet!” A demon slapped me, hard enough that I could feel a bruise already developing. “Or I’ll cut out your tongue.”

I forced myself not to respond with threats of my own, knowing the demon was serious. As the demons stepped up to the laptop, fiddling with a few things, Jackson turned to me. 

“We knew your Winchesters would go to the cemetery; if they were trying to find you, they would work the case you were on and see if they could figure out what had happened to you along the way. So we left a message in the mausoleum, a skype address. It’s a blank address; never been used before. It’s got no contacts, so they can’t call us, but we can call them.” He glanced up as what sounded like a ringing phone echoed through the warehouse, and the demons stepped back. A moment later there was a blinking of the computer screen, and then Sam, Dean, and Cas appeared. 

They were clustered around their computer, cramming shoulder to shoulder as they each tried to see the skype message. Each looked worried sick, and like they hadn’t slept at all in the past twenty four hours. At the sight of me, bound and gagged and probably more than a little beat up, each of their faces paled.

“Lucy!” Cas all but lunged for the computer screen, as if hoping that he could jump through it to me. His eyes locked with mine; his blue irises were filled with such panic and fury that my heart caught. Dean was just as bad, and their yells filled the air. Sam was also yelling a bit, but I could see him raking his eyes around my background, trying to catch some glimpse as to where I was.

“Let her go,” growled Dean. His knuckles were turning white where they were grasping the back of the chair he was leaning on, and I was wondering which would break first, his fingers or the chair. Based on the murder in his eyes, things weren’t looking too good for the chair.

There was a laugh from behind me, and I knew that it was a demon that placed a knife at my throat. “She is pretty,” he said. “I can see why you like her.”

Sam, Dean, and Cas’s eyes all shot to the blade pressed against my throat, knowing how simple a matter it would be to press a little harder and kill me. Even Sam gave up all pretenses of being calm, and his breath began to come out in a sharp hiss.

“What do you want with her?” he asked. 

The demon shifted its grip on the knife, and in the process it was pressed deeper into my throat for a quick second. That second was enough to draw blood, and as a single drop rolled down my skin Cas’s eyes travelled with it, his whole body now trembling.

“We need something from you, Castiel,” said the demon. “You’ve called all the angels back into heaven, put them all on high alert. The only one they all trust is you. Therefore, you must now collect the rest of the grace we need. Another ten should do.”

I shuddered, forgetting for a moment the blade pressed to my neck. Ten more angel graces? Were they that close to building their god? I thought back to the trap that Cas had barely escaped from alive. How many others had escaped there? If they hadn’t, if that trap hadn’t been disturbed, would the demons have already gathered all that they needed?

Cas’s face paled even further, if that was possible, and he shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “I won’t.”

The demon standing behind me laughed. “I was hoping you might say that.”

I screamed as the knife was dug into my shoulder, the cut thin but deep. Blood poured from the wound, soaking into my shirt, and a moment later another slash was added on the side of my neck. This was much shallower than the first, so as not to fatally wound me, but it still hurt. Despite my best efforts, tears began to stream down my face, mixing with the blood now coating the left side of my neck.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Cas screamed out the words over and over again, panic setting into his eyes. As the demon again placed the knife over my neck Cas took a deep breath, closing his eyes ever so briefly. “I’ll do it.”

“Cas, don’t!” My own shout was muffled by the gag, and when the knife was pressed into my shoulder blade a moment later I screamed, squeezing my eyes shut. Tears still managed to leak out, streaming down my cheeks. I forced my eyes back to the computer screen, ignoring Sam and Dean’s wide eyed stares at my tears, trying to force Cas to meet my gaze. He refused to meet my eyes however, staring down at his hands. He hadn’t even glanced up at my scream, though his hands clenched around the edge of the table.

“Good.” The demon didn’t bother placing the dagger back against my throat as it stepped up to the computer. “I’ll be nice; I’ll give you one week. After that she starts losing limbs.”

Before Sam, Dean, or Cas could respond the demon hit the button that would end the skype message. It turned back to me with a grin, twirling the knife through the air. “Well, that went well.” 

I glared at the demon, ignoring the pain in my shoulder and neck. I spat out several curses, but again they were muffled by the gag. The demon chuckled and set the knife down on the table, walking away. 

Off to the side Jackson sighed, kneeling down in front of me. “Are you alright?” he asked. 

_Well that was a stupid question._

As I glared at Jackson he sighed again, undoing the gag from my mouth, and then, casting a glance around us, placed a hand over me. A blue glow spread out, and I felt my new injuries close.

I studied him curiously as he pulled away, leaning against the table opposite me.

“Why did you do that?” I asked. “Why do you care?”

Jackson grimaced. “Don’t you wonder why I pretended to work your case with you? Why I didn’t just take you?”

I frowned. I had been wondering that, but I hadn’t quite gotten around to that question yet. “Ok,” I said. “Why?”

Jackson gestured to the computer, which had moments before held Cas’s image. “Castiel does not speak often of you, for he seeks to protect you, but from what I have heard, he is madly in love with you. I was curious, as were my other siblings, about this woman that has him so raptured.”

“So you murdered a girl to lure me on my own so that you could see what I’m like?” I asked. “You could have just asked me. Like the little chit chat we had at the Starbucks, though I doubt anything you said there was real.”

“I did try to stay as close to the truth as I could,” Jackson told me. “And the girl’s death was not my idea.” He sighed again, and then his eyes locked with mine. “However, to answer your initial question, I care because of the time I spent with you. I saw how you not only solve a case, but how you care so much about the results, and though I may not agree with you releasing those shape shifters, I respect your compassion. I understand now why Castiel has chosen you.”

I rolled my eyes. “If you cared so much, you wouldn’t have pushed me out of a tree into a horde of demons. Tell me this; did you kill any of your siblings yourself, or did you let the demons do your dirty work for you?”

Jackson flinched, and he moved from the table and backed away. “I shall leave you,” he murmured. As he stalked away I could see his shoulders were rigid, though from anger or hurt I couldn’t tell. Frankly, I didn’t really care.

I glanced around me, taking in carefully all the entrances and exits. I could see several windows, but they were too high up on the wall to be of any use. There was a door on the side of the warehouse, which I vaguely remembered from my last visit, and when I twisted my neck I thought I could make out another door against the far wall behind me.

I shifted in my seat, trying to make out what was in my back pockets. Maybe my captors hadn’t thought to take my pocket knife. Bad luck have it, the knife had been confiscated, though they had left my phone, which was becoming very uncomfortable to sit on. I sighed, wriggling back and forth in my chair. It seemed sturdy enough, but maybe if I tipped it over fast enough it might break. Hopefully it would break in such a way that the legs and arms of the chair would detach from the rest, and I could simply pull them out of the ropes. I would never need to untie myself.

Of course, it would take several moment’s time for me to do that, as well as a large amount of luck. Neither of which I was confident I had going for me. I sighed, trying to think of another way to free myself. Before I could come up with anything there was a sound of footsteps, and I glanced up to see Yvonne standing in front of me.

“I take it you’re the one who suggested using me to get to Cas?” I asked. 

Yvonne didn’t answer straight away, as though not sure if she should, but then she nodded.

“I am,” she admitted. Her voice was just as strict and cold as the last time I had met her, and I realized that she was about as deadly as the demons in the corner. Whereas Jackson at least had some compassion, enough to feel badly about his actions, Yvonne was a stone cold angel. She would kill anyone who got in the way of her goal, and she wouldn’t bat an eye.

“Were you curious about me too?” I asked. “Or did you have another reason for observing me before kidnapping me?”

Yvonne again considered her answer before stating it, taking her time. “I was curious,” she said. “However it was also a test. I wanted to see if you were a threat. I don’t believe you are.” 

I scowled at her. We’d see who was a threat to who. Yvonne’s eyebrow twitched slightly, but she didn’t comment, merely casting a glance around her. 

“In case you’re wondering,” she said. “The symbols on the wall prevent you from praying to Castiel where we are. So don’t even try.”

With that she spun and stalked away, and I sighed. So much for that option. I cast a glance around the warehouse again, returning to my previous thoughts on how I was going to free myself. I shifted again as my phone dug into my rear end, resisting the urge to call Jackson over to take it out of my pocket. I didn’t want to draw attention to it. Had I left it on? I thought so. Hopefully. I would find out soon.

I wasn’t wrong. Soon turned out to be thirty minutes, just enough time for the boys to track my phone and then scope out the warehouse it led them to. I could only imagine their faces when they’d realized where I was; no doubt they’d found it a rather nice coincidence as well. Either way, one minute the angels and demons were conversing at the center of the room, albeit in two different groups, the next minute there was a whole new group standing inside the warehouse. It was comprised of men and women who, going by their hardened looks, were hunters, as well as a few who looked like they might be shape shifters or other monsters that the boys had spared over the years. Among the group I recognized Garth Fitzgerald and Jody Mills, the former still wearing Bobby Singer’s old hat, the latter still in her officer’s uniform. Even Crowley was there, twirling his angel blade around with a demeanor that really shouldn’t have been quite so cocky, and of course at the head of the group was Sam, Dean, and Cas.

Their eyes fell first to me, then to the angel grace at the center of the room. Already the angels and demons had noticed them, and as they quickly put themselves in front of the grace Dean began barking out orders.

“Cas, Sam, we’re getting Lucy. The rest of you, get the grace!”

The group of rescuers leapt into action, and Sam, Dean, and Cas vanished. A moment later I could feel their presence behind me, and as Dean started to saw at the ropes Sam stood guard, and Cas knelt in front of me.

“Lucy,” he whispered. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, and as the bindings around my waist and arms were loosened I threw my arms around him. I pulled away when there was a grunt from behind me, and I twisted to see Sam and Dean in the middle of a battle with a small group of demons. Cas and I both cursed, and he dove for the knife that Dean had dropped.

“Cas, behind you!”

Cas twisted on the floor just as Yvonne came up behind him, and he kicked upward, catching her in the hip. She stumbled backwards, and as she stepped forward again Cas stood, drawing his own angel blade. I growled in frustration, scanning around the floor for the knife.

There. It was several feet away, far out of my reach, but if I moved my chair carefully I could make it. I began to wriggle, but it was difficult, and as one of the chair legs caught on some chip in the floor it fell. I gave an oomph as I landed, my head smacking against the concrete floor, but I ignored the pain, gritting my teeth as I used my arms to pull myself along. At last I was there, and I quickly sawed at the ropes that held my ankles to the chair. As I stood Dean’s eyes snapped over to me, and I saw relief flash through them.

“Lucy, run!” he called.

I rolled my eyes. “Not gonna happen,” I called back. I twirled out of the way as I heard footsteps pounding towards me, and I grabbed an angel blade that a dead demon had dropped and used it to stab the new arrival’s back. It fell to the floor, and an orange flash emitted from its eyes.

Soon several more demons had joined the battle, and Sam, Dean, Cas, and I put ourselves back to back. Slowly we were driven inwards, towards the center of the room, and glancing around, I could see that the same was happening to the others in the rescue mission. We would soon be trapped, with no way to escape. Out of the raging throng of fighters I could make out Jackson. He was hanging back it seemed, as though he really didn’t want to fight. He was however doing his duty, protecting what he thought was right.  
A sudden idea occurred to me, and I purposely let the demon I was fighting shove me back, further toward the center of the room. Ignoring the pain in my shoulder, I staggered to my feet, backing up as the demon advanced once more. I didn’t dare glance around me as I moved closer and closer to the center of the room, knowing that a single wrong move would give away my motive. As I reached the dark stain that marked where I had first appeared in the warehouse so many months ago I let the demon charge forward, and as it threw itself at me I stepped to the side, bringing my angel blade into its neck. Then, before anything else could come at me, I threw myself at the table that was only a foot away, grabbing the bottle that held the angel grace. By now several of my former abductors had noticed, and they charged at me, snarls and screams on their faces. They were too late though, and were still several feet away from me when I slammed the bottle down on the table. 

Glass shards flew everywhere, more than a few embedding themselves in my hand. I hardly noticed, enraptured by the silver swirl of grace that poured into the air. It hovered there for a moment, curling gracefully back and forth like water under a current, and then it began to move. Not up towards heaven, or even out into thin air, or towards the nearest exit like I’d thought it would. Instead it moved only a few inches, and I staggered backwards as the silver stuff surrounded my head. It felt pure, filled with energy, tingling with life. I gasped under its power, feeling a shiver run through me, and the grace took advantage of my open mouth. It poured up my mouth and nose, and I thought it was even going into my ears. It flooded into me, and though I tried to move, to pull away, my muscles simply wouldn’t work, anchoring me where I stood. As the last of the grace absorbed into my body I felt it explode through me, a raw surge of energy that was far too much to bear. The last thing I saw as I fell to the floor was Cas, blue eyes widened in horror.


	31. We

I could see everything.

Hold on. I? She? We? Yes, we. We could see everything. The grace Lucy Greene had absorbed was filled with a thousand minds, a thousand fallen angels, and now all those minds melded together, forming one collective consciousness that could only be called _we_. What else could we call it? We were the same, yet we were so vastly different. A normal person would have been overwhelmed by it all, but then again, we weren’t normal. We weren’t even human, or angel- though we hesitated to call ourselves a god. Instead of puzzling over what we were, we turned our attention to what we saw.

Space, spinning wild and out of control, blossoming outward. We saw all its beings, all through their lives, and into the lives of the next generation, and into the generations that had long since passed. We could see days that had faded into the sunset a thousand years ago, and days that had yet to happen, a thousand sunsets in the future.

All of that, all of that beautiful magnificence, all flooding through our mind. It came all at once, and though it was overwhelming, we could somehow recognize everything for what it was, picking out individual lives within the vast web presented to us. 

“Lucy! Lucy!”

We blinked our eyes open, staring around us. It took a minute for our eyes to focus, to see past the universe raging within our head, but when they did, the first thing we saw was blue.

Blue like the sky at noon, like the ocean on a perfect summer day when the sea is calm. Only there were clouds in those eyes, and the ocean within them was anything but calm. 

Castiel had fought his way to us, and he was cradling us in his arms, shaking us, trying to wake us up. Around us everyone else was staring, as though waiting for something to happen.

“Lucy?” Castiel’s eyes locked with ours, and relief washed over his face. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Lucy?”

We stood, gazing around us at everyone gathered. Several in the warehouse were dead, from both the rescue mission and Lucy’s captors. Everyone else was still staring, with their mouths agape.

“Lucy?” Sam stepped forward, studying our face. Then, seeing something there, he grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled him back, away from me. “Lucy, is that you?”

“I- we- we are Lucy, but we’re not.”

Alarm flashed through everyone’s eyes, especially Sam, Dean, and Castiel’s, but Sam nodded as though what we were saying made sense. He tensed slightly, and we realized that he was as lost as the others, merely trying to please us, the way one might try to placate a wild, wounded animal.

“And what are you?” he asked. 

We tilted our head to the side. “We are- we are everything. We can feel everything, see everything.”

“What do you mean by everything?” Dean stepped forward slightly, drawing his brothers behind him. There was suspicion in his eyes as he eyed us, but also fear.

“All of time, all of space. Everything and everyone that is, or ever has been, or ever could be.”

Castiel muttered a curse under his breath. He started to say something, but we didn’t hear what. At the mention of the sensations flooding through our head we were drawn back to them, drawn into that web of lights.

The universe was wrong. That much we knew, all the minds that made us up. There was far too much hate, far too many demons. The demons needed to go.

Sam and Dean had tried. They’d tried to lock the demons in hell, every single one of them, but the effort had nearly cost Sam his life, and in the end Dean had persuaded Sam to stop. 

But the task wouldn’t cost us our life. We could throw every last demon into hell and slam the gates shut, and it would take only moments. It wouldn’t take much effort. We were about to do just that when our eyes fell to Crowley. 

He’d been a loyal friend to the Winchesters, and it seemed that he was becoming more human. We peered closely at him, our mind searching through the threads of space and time that made up his life, and yes, there was a definite change in him. 

We stared at the king of hell. A king he was now, but once he had been a scared little boy, alone in Scotland, yearning for the mother that had abandoned him. And then, just barely two months ago, he had been standing above the body of that mother, feeling an onrush of emotions, suddenly recalling the scared little boy he’d once been and feeling that little boy surface again. Somehow, viewing this, all the hatred and disgust we had once felt for Crowley faded, and was replaced by pity.

We stepped towards him, watching as he flinched away. Even Crowley knew that this wasn’t Lucy, not really. He watched us warily, the hand holding his now blood covered angel blade coming up slightly in preparation to strike.

“Do not bother trying to hurt us,” We told him. “It will not work.”

To emphasize our point, our gaze went down to the knife he held, silver and glinting dully in the light of the warehouse. We reached out with our mind, tugging at the knife, and suddenly it wasn’t there anymore. It had dissolved into silver dust, and then the dust had faded into nothing. With a simple mind trick, we had erased the blade from existence.

A part of us was curious about trying that trick on something living.

We pushed down that thought though, again lifting our eyes to look at Crowley, whose mouth had fallen open at our display of power. “We’re going to send away the demons now,” we told him. “We’re going to lock them in hell, where they will never cause trouble again. You have a choice. You can join them, or you can remain here.”

Crowley blinked, surprised, but then his eyebrows came up. In his uncertainty he was reverting to his primary defense mechanism, his sarcasm.

“What’s the catch?” he asked. “I somehow doubt you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart- whoever you are.”

We smiled reassuringly. “Actually, we are. However, there is a price. You would no longer be a demon; we would revert you again to a mortal form.”

Crowley’s face took on an expression of awe, and we knew that there was a part of him that wanted to say yes. A large part of him that was tired of the blood, and the chaos, a part of him that just wanted to _live_. “You could do that?”

We nodded. 

“You would?”

“Would you like us to?” We cocked our head to the side, watching and feeling all the emotions running through Crowley’s mind. “You would lose your power, your title. But you would be human again, truly feeling, truly living. We could reunite you with your son; the two of you could have a second chance.”

Crowley bit his lip. As each moment passed we could feel him growing more and more eager to accept our offer, but something held him back. It wasn’t his pride, or his stubbornness, but his terror. He was again remembering the scared little boy he’d once been, and was terrified of losing his power, of being reverted back to that little boy.

We reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. The smile we offered him was soft, sincere, the sort of smile that he should have grown up with. 

“You will be fine,” we promised. “You will be who you should have been to begin with.”

Crowley stared at me for a moment, and then he nodded. “Alright,” he whispered. “Alright. Do it.”

We nodded, focusing on Crowley, on the many strings that made him who he was. We pulled at them, weaving carefully through them as we searched for the ones we wanted. There they were. We snipped them carefully, and before us Crowley gasped. His eyes flared black, but then, as we watched, the black faded. It was washed away, replaced by hazel. 

Finishing our work, we bound Crowley to the body he had been possessing, making it his own. The mind that had once inhabited it had long since passed, and without a home, Crowley’s soul would be drawn to either heaven or hell. As the last thread was in place Crowley wavered, stumbling. He managed to catch himself, then stared at us in awe.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

We nodded. “Go be with your son now.”

We blinked, and Crowley disappeared, reappearing many miles away in a small apartment. With him was a boy, barely into his manhood, and at the sight of his father he lurched to his feet.

“Hello son,” Crowley said.

“Hello father,” responded Gavin. 

For a moment everything was still, and then Crowley stepped forward, drawing his son to him in a hug. Gavin tensed, but then, slowly, he relaxed, and his arms came up to hug his father back.

Satisfied, we let their reunion fade from our mind, turning back to the others. They were staring at us, unsure what had just happened, but we ignored them. Focusing on the demons, we grabbed at them, shoving every demon on earth back into hell and slamming the gates shut. As the demons in the warehouse vanished, transported to their eternal prison, we smiled.

“Lucy?” Cas stepped forward, reaching forward to take our hands in his. “What are you doing?” he asked.

We ignored him; there were other things we needed to deal with. The angels that had participated in the Grace Crisis, they needed to be dealt with. But how?

We didn’t want to lock all the angels inside heaven as we had done with the demons; the majority of angels hadn’t done anything wrong. Besides, doing that would take away Castiel, and we didn’t want that- Lucy didn’t want that. But we needed to do something about them.

We turned to them. All the angels involved in the Grace Crisis had by now clustered together, watching us warily. Jackson stepped forward as our gaze fell upon them, and we saw that his face was pale. 

“What you did was wrong,” we stated.

Jackson took a moment to think before answering. “It was what we thought was necessary.”

“It was still wrong. You killed people. Good, innocent people. That was unacceptable.”

Jackson gulped. “We know,” he whispered. “But we can’t take it back. We would do it again. And it worked. Look at you.” He stepped forward, gesturing to us, a strange light in his eyes. “You are everything we hoped for, and so much more!”

We blinked, pausing. A moment later we shook our head. “It was still wrong.”

Jackson nodded and stepped back, rejoining his siblings with a resigned expression on his face. “Do what you must,” he whispered.

For a moment we observed him, and then the action was complete. The angels clustered before us vanished, leaving nothing but air where they had just stood.

Castiel’s eyes widened, and he grabbed our wrists, spinning us towards him. “What did you do?” he asked. “Where are they?”

Again we ignored him, expanding our mind out into the world. There were so many souls there, so many lost souls, unable to move on. Perhaps we could persuade them to.   
We could converse with many spirits at once, hundreds. Those who accepted our offer were given a new home, and those who refused were extinguished. Just as we’d extinguished Crowley’s knife, banishing it from existence, we banished those twisted, hostile souls.

We were in the middle of a conversation when Castiel’s voice broke through again, drawing us away from our thoughts. We sighed, breaking off our connection with Toby Williams as we turned our attention to the angel before us.

“Yes?” we asked.

Castiel’s face was pale, his eyes shining with fear and something else. Horror.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “Answer me! What have you done?”

“You think we have killed your siblings?” we asked.

It was a moment before Castiel answered, but then he shook his head softly. “No. I- I don’t know. I don’t know what you are- who you are. All I know is that you’re not Lucy. Not my Lucy!”

We sighed. “Your siblings are well. We put them in their own separate heaven, where they will disturb the rest of the universe no longer. We are in the process of doing the same for the lost souls of the world.”

Sam and Dean gasped, both remembering the encounter they and Lucy had had with Toby Williams. 

“That was you?” asked Dean. “This whole time, everything- that was all you?”

We smiled and nodded. “It was. Speaking of which, we should perhaps get things started.”

At the look of confusion on their faces we smiled again, closing our eyes. Sam, Dean, and Castiel gasped, and we saw through their eyes the same thing that seemed to happen whenever we used our powers. Our skin glowed, the veins under our brown arms turning silver, light leaking outward.

We let our power flow through us, letting our mind go back through time, through space. We knew where one end of the link needed to be, but where should we place the other end?

We opened our eyes just long enough to glance around us at the warehouse we stood in. Yes, this would do nicely. Why not? It was the location that Lucy remembered; there was no need to change things.

Within moments it was complete. A wormhole was formed, reaching back to almost a year ago. A link from this place to a high school in a different universe, where a seventeen year old girl was walking through the halls, thinking the most difficult choice in her life was what college she would be going to. As the wormhole took shape we smiled, focusing again on Castiel.

“Done. All is in place now.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?” he asked.

“The wormhole,” guessed Sam. “You formed that, didn’t you?”

We nodded, then turned back to Castiel.

“There is a choice ahead of you,” we told him. “You and Lucy still face your dilemma, but there is a solution. We can provide you with a way to retain who you are, yet be with her.”

That got his attention. His eyes bored into ours, hope and fear and yearning all mixed together. “How?” he whispered.

“Hold up,” said Dean. “What dilemma? Cas, what’s going on?”

Castiel gulped. “Lucy and I realized that she will grow old and die, while I cannot. I offered to give up my grace, so that we could age together, but she rejected the idea. We haven’t seen each other since then.”

His eyes brimmed with tears, remembering a night that had been filled with anguish. Suddenly we saw through his eyes. He had spent the day after his last meeting with Lucy brooding silently, his heart torn. He had barely heard his phone ringing as Sam and Dean had called him, but when he had heard what they were shouting on the other end of the line his heart had grown cold, panicked. He had spent the time since then frantically scouring both earth and heaven for any clues as to where she was, vowing in his mind that once he had rescued the woman he loved, he would never allow anything to happen to her again. 

During that whole time their dilemma had been lurking in the back of his mind, taunting him, reminding him that there was nothing he could do to keep away death. It was inevitable, and though it could be prolonged, eventually it came to all things.

“How can you help us?” he whispered. 

We blinked, bringing our attention back to the angel in front of us. “It will be a compromise,” we told him. “You will not give up your grace; you will remain an angel, but you will be a mortal angel.”

Castiel frowned. “How do you mean?”

“Your lives will be bound together; you will receive a part of her mortality, and in exchange she will receive a part of your longevity. Your lives will be prolonged, but eventually they will come to an end.”

Castiel blinked. “So I will be part angel, part human?”

We nodded.

“And Lucy will be too?” he asked. “What will that do to her?”

We smiled reassuringly. “The only effect the link will cause will be to prolong her life. Other than that she will still be human, still the same woman you know.”

“What does she think?” asked Castiel. “She’s in there, right? A part of you? Does she agree with this plan?”

We smiled, and we searched through the consciousness of Lucy Greene, examining who she was without the rest of us. Finally, after several long moments, we nodded.

“She agrees.”

“Then do it.” Castiel’s eyes were burning brightly, and a grin was spreading across his face. “Do it.”

Within a moment it was done. Castiel gasped as we pulled at him, taking a part of who he was. We quickly transferred it to Lucy, and then gave to Castiel a piece of her, binding them together. They were still separate beings; if one died the other would continue to live, but they would age together, and chances were one would not long outlast the other, if they didn’t die together to begin with.

“Thank you,” whispered Castiel. 

We nodded, smiling softly.

“Ok,” said Dean. He stepped forward, his green eyes wary. “That’s enough. Whatever you just did I’m guessing it was a good thing, but that’s enough. Lucy, this isn’t you.”

We blinked. “It isn’t,” we agreed. “We are more.”

“Let go,” Sam ordered. He stepped forward as well, and now the three Winchester brothers were standing side by side. “Lucy and Cas can’t be together with you there. You need to leave her.”

We frowned. We didn’t want to go. We enjoyed life, enjoyed our power, and all the good we could do with it. There were so many things we could do, so many lives we could save. No one would ever have this chance again.

“Lucy.” Castiel stepped forward, taking our hands in his. “I know you’re in there. Let go. Let go of the power. I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t stay like this. There will always be more hatred, more death. You can’t save everyone.”

“But we can.”

Castiel shook his head, tears flowing down his cheeks. “No, you can’t. That’s ok. The world isn’t perfect, but that’s alright. The bad things highlight the good, bring them into the light. What would those moments be without that illumination? They would be nothing. And so would we.”

“But-” our mind was scrambling, searching for an argument. Deep down we knew it was no use; Castiel was right. “We don’t want to go.”

Castiel nodded. “You are the wills of hundreds of angels, all crammed into one mind. One beautiful, extraordinary mind, but still one mind. That isn’t right. You need to move on. Make for each mind a place in heaven, that special heaven of yours, and leave Lucy. You said to Crowley that he could live; you gave him the chance to live. Give Lucy that chance. She deserves to live.” He paused, his head twisting away, but then he turned back again, his eyes a solid, burning blue. “Give her back to me.”

He moved forward, faster than we could react, pressing his mouth to ours. Automatically we responded, and our mouth moved against Castiel’s.

No. Not us. Her. Lucy. It was her responding so strongly, and we examined her thoughts, her feelings, observing how she yearned to be with her angel. We realized then that Castiel was right; it was time for us to go.

We sighed, giving in. This was what was right. Everything as it should be. One last time we melded together our minds, forming the heavens we needed. Each piece of us would find their way to their home.

Then it was time. We locked eyes with Castiel one last time, studying him, this angel that Lucy had fallen in love with. He still watched us warily, looking as though he was ready to either weep or laugh, depending on what happened next. As our eyes met we smiled one last time, lifting a hand up to his face.

“Enjoy your life,” we whispered. “Enjoy your love.” 

Our minds separated, and our mouth opened. As the silver mist began to billow out we faded, until suddenly we were no more. Suddenly, there was just her.

* * * * *

As the last of the silver mist faded into the air I gasped, stumbling where I stood. Cas caught me, his arms winding around my waist, and I leaned against him, my head resting against his chest.

“Lucy?” Cas pulled away, staring at me with fearful blue eyes. “Lucy, is that you?”

I blinked, pushing past the images, sounds, and emotions raging through my head. There were so many there, all jumbled together until I couldn’t make sense of them anymore. I wasn’t sure what I had missed, but something told me it was big.

But that wasn’t important at that moment. The important thing was the angel staring at me, blue eyes filled with enough fear and love to make my heart clench. Pushing aside my worries for the time being, I gave Cas a small smile.

“Hey Angel Dust.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to post. But, on the bright side, second to last chapter!! Though I promise this isn't the end of this story. I have a one shot ready to go, and then I'll start posting what I've written so far for the sequel to this.   
> Anyways, here it is. Enjoy!


	32. Happy Endings- Sort of

Relief blossomed over Cas’s face, and he began to laugh. It wasn’t the halfhearted, forced laugh that he’d adopted over the past weeks but a full, hearty laugh. I raised an eyebrow, confused but happy, but before I could ask what he was laughing about he kissed me.

Deep and passionate, filled with love and fear that was likely still fading away, the kiss nearly made me stumble again. Instead my arms went around Cas, around his neck, and then up so that my fingers could tangle in his hair. His arms curled around my back, pulling me to him, and when my grip on him loosened slightly he grasped me that much harder, so that I was pressed firmly to his chest.

At last the kiss ended, but we stayed locked together for another minute, our foreheads pressed together. We were panting, out of breath, but neither of us cared. 

Once my breath had returned to normal I pushed gently on Cas’s chest, and he reluctantly released me.

“What was that about?” I asked.

Cas’s eyes darkened slightly, but before he could say anything Sam and Dean had taken his place. Sam lifted me off my feet as he wrapped me in a great bear hug, swinging me from side to side. As he set me down he grinned, stooping to plant a kiss on the top of my head.

“Thank god you’re back,” he whispered.

I frowned, but then Dean was there. Instead of picking me up like Sam had, he simply squeezed me to him, almost the same way Cas had. Like he was afraid that if he let me go I was going to disappear. When he finally pulled away there were tears in his eyes, but he offered a small smile as he stepped back to let me know he was fine.

I folded my arms and moved away, so that no one else could hug me. “Alright,” I demanded. “What did I miss?”

All three bit their lips, and someone from behind them stepped forward. Cole Trenton. He reached up to scratch awkwardly at the back of his neck, making a face as he rolled around his words in his head.

“Well, you see,” he said. “You went and absorbed all that silver stuff, and then you sort of became a- well, a god.”

“What?”

I was fairly certain my screech echoed for miles, and though Sam, Dean, and Cas all took a step back, they were grinning as they did, enjoying my reaction far too much. As my voice faded from the air I couldn’t help but notice that everyone else looked slightly nervous, as though they were afraid that if they upset me too much I’d turn them all into frogs.

I turned to Cas, all the blood draining from my face. “What did I do?”

He sighed and stepped towards me, taking my hands in his. “A few things,” he began.

When I raised an eyebrow he continued. “First you turned Crowley into a human, then you locked all the demons in hell and created a whole new heaven to lock the angels involved in the Grace Crisis in. From there, from what I can tell, you started to do the same with ghosts all over the world, bringing to heaven the ones that were willing to move on, destroying the ones that weren’t.” Cas paused, watching me carefully as I held up a hand.

“Hold up. Crowley’s human? I locked up the demons? A whole new heaven? I destroyed things? How?”

There were several chuckles around the room, and Sam shrugged.

“We’re not really sure,” he stated. “You just _did_.” 

I sighed. “Ok. Wait- a new heaven. Toby Williams. He said- was I-”

Dean chuckled as I waved my arms around, my mind failing to come up with the words I needed. “Yup,” he affirmed. “Seems like.”

I used my hand to push back several strands of hair that had come out of my ponytail. “Ok. Wow. Umm, so is that all that I did?”

Cas grimaced, and everyone else all shifted so that they could see us both more clearly. I raised an eyebrow, narrowing my best glare at Cas.

“Tell me.”

Cas gulped, and I knew it was big.

“Cas,” I warned. “Tell me now.”

Cas sighed. “Alright. Well, there are two big things. First of all, you created the wormhole. The wormhole that started it all.”

I blinked rapidly as Cas’s words sank in. I had done that? That was me? I thought back to when my life had changed forever, and even though nothing had changed about the memory, the scene still felt different with the knowledge that I had caused it. Crazier maybe. At least weirder.

Alright, so I’d created the wormhole. It had already happened; there wasn’t much I could do about that. I sighed and pushed it to the back of my mind; there was a flood of emotions pertaining to that coming, but they could wait. I could tell there was more to the story.

“What else did I do?” I asked.

Cas winced. “You bound us together,” he stated.

My eyes widened. “I did what?”

“You gave me part of your mortality, and took part of my immortality in exchange. We’ll grow old together, at a lesser rate, but we will grow old. I’ll still be an angel, you’ll still be human, but we can be together.”

My mouth fell open.

For several minutes I just stood there, trying to process what Cas had said. The concept was crazy; it was a battle just to work out exactly what he’d said, and when I had, it hit like a train.

Cas would grow old with me. He wouldn’t have to watch me die; we would die together- or at least around the same time. And it wouldn’t even cost him his grace like I’d thought it would. He would still be an angel, still him. Still my Cas. 

I wouldn’t lose him. I wouldn’t have to give him up. I had no idea what this heaven I’d created was like, but maybe it would allow us to be together once we died. That would be nice.

I decided to worry about that far in the future. I glanced back up to Cas, who was watching me nervously, unsure how I was going to react. As our eyes locked I could see hope and a bit of fear in them. As I grinned the fear disappeared, and joy took its place.

I pulled him into our next kiss by his tie, and while this time he didn’t clutch me to him the way he had before, the kiss was just as passionate. When we finally broke apart Cas began to hum softly, hugging me to him and resting his chin on my head. I wrinkled my nose; it was just his way of showing off that he was taller than me, but I let him stay like that for a minute. When I pulled away I grabbed his hand, locking our fingers together.

“I didn’t do anything else, did I?” I asked. My eyes narrowed slightly; it certainly seemed like that was it, but I’d learned never to assume anything.

Dean shrugged. “Let’s hope not. I don’t think you did.”

I gave him a halfhearted glare. “Helpful.”

Dean snickered and reached out to ruffle my hair.

“Let’s get out of here,” suggested Sam.

“What about the bodies?” asked Jodi Mills. She stared around us, tapping her leg as she counted the dead, and I grimaced.

“Right,” said Dean. “Umm…”

We glanced behind us as the door to the warehouse opened, and my, Sam, Dean, and Cas’s mouths all fell open at who stood there.

“I’ve got gas and salt for burning bodies; that’s how hunters bury their dead, right?” asked Adam Milligan. He cast a glance around, and then grinned at the slack jawed looks on his brothers’ faces. “Hey Sam,” he called. “Hey Dean.”

Dean was opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, like a fish out of water, and Cas was simply staring. Sam was the first to react, stepping forward slightly. “Adam?” he asked. “You- you’re alive?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Yup. Not that you ever noticed. I’ve been around for years.”

Dean held up his hand, going into overprotective older brother mode. “Explain,” he ordered. 

I bit back a smirk, imagining him using that tone on Sam when they were kids.

“There’s not much to tell,” said Adam. “All I remember is waking up back in that cemetery. There was this voice; it said that I’d been gone for about two months. Said I could do what I wanted with my life, but that I needed to show up here at one thirty in the morning on this date.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, I’m five minutes early.”

I blinked rapidly, feeling slightly dizzy. I was guessing that was my work. At least I’d had the sense to break Adam out of hell early into his sentence, and not present day. Still, seeing him there, alive and well, was disconcerting.

“So what have you been doing this whole time?” asked Sam. He frowned, searching Adam’s figure for salt guns or flasks of holy water. From what we could all tell, there were none.

Adam snorted, seeing Sam’s look. “I got a job. Got a house. This-” he spread his arms out in a wide arc to indicate the warehouse and everything that had just happened there- “is your gig. Not mine. As soon as I’m done here, I’m gone.”

Sam and Dean nodded, and though both looked relieved that their youngest brother wasn’t trapped in the life they’d grown up in, there was sadness in both their gazes. They both understood that when Adam left he wasn’t coming back, and he wouldn’t want us turning up on his doorstep for a visit. This was it. He was alive, but he was still out of their reach.

I stepped backwards and took Cas’s hand in mine. Adam’s appearance had caused our fingers to slip apart, and I wasn’t sure about Cas, but I wasn’t liking the separation. As I leaned towards him he bent his head down to catch what I was saying.

“Let’s give them some privacy,” I whispered. 

Cas nodded almost imperceptibly and started to tug me towards the door. Seeing our direction, the group of rescuers began to follow, glancing awkwardly between Sam, Dean, and Adam. As we passed Adam he handed me the keys to his car, and I offered him a small smile.

It didn’t take very long to unload the car, and the gas and salt was set against the side of the warehouse. Adam had been thorough; he’d brought seven giant jugs of gas, the kind you bought at the store to pour into a generator, and three large bags of rock salt, the ones you bought to use on your driveway during winter. Clearly he hadn’t known how much he’d need, and had decided to just stock up.

I took a moment to glance around the inside of the car. There was several McDonalds wrappers thrown this way or that way, and poking out from underneath a blanket sitting on the passenger seat was the butt of a rifle. I guessed it was filled with rock salt. That was good; Adam was taking precautions.

Once the door to the car had been shut and locked we all lounged around on the field surrounding the warehouse, reluctant to go back inside. We couldn’t hear what was happening on the other side of the door, but I could only imagine what it was. I sighed, settling down against the warehouse wall and leaning my head against Cas. He wrapped an arm around me, holding me firmly to his side as he leaned his head back against the wood.

Everyon began to break off into small conversations, and though a few came and introduced themselves to me, none seemed to want to spend much time with me. Judging by the wary way they were eyeing me, they were likely still scared that I had some residual grace left in me.

We all glanced up as the door opened, watching as Adam stalked out. He didn’t look too upset; a little sad. He took a moment to look around him, searching for me in the predawn darkness. As he approached I stood and handed him the keys, but before I could say anything he turned and stalked away. I sighed, and Cas took my hand.

“It’s better for him this way,” he murmured. “He’ll be safe, he’ll have a normal life. I think he’s afraid that if he stays for too long he’ll be drawn back in.”

I nodded, watching as Adam pulled away. Everyone was staring after him, watching the taillights to his car fade into the distance until they were gone. As they vanished I turned towards the warehouse, meeting Sam and Dean’s eyes.

They were standing in the doorway, watching where Adam’s car had vanished sadly. As our eyes met they both offered me small smiles, and I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around them. As they returned the hug I felt tears fall onto my hair; whose they were I wasn’t sure. Dean reached out to the side, grabbing Cas’s trench coat and pulling him into the hug.

It was two full minutes before we broke apart again, and at that point both Sam and Dean wiped their eyes and squared their shoulders. Dean grabbed two jugs of gas while Sam hefted two bags of rock salt, and without a word they started into the warehouse. 

We lined up all the bodies, ignoring the distinction between friend and foe. First salt was dumped on each, and then gas was added. Then, to my surprise, Sam began to throw gas around the rest of the warehouse, shrugging his shoulders when I turned a questioning look to him.

“Not much good seems to happen here,” he defended himself. I nodded and grabbed another jug, helping to spread the sour smelling stuff around the warehouse. We had to use it sparingly, but by the time we were done I was fairly confident that the warehouse would burn nicely. 

Silently everyone began to file out, but I paused by the door, my gaze lingering on the row of bodies that ran down the room. Several of them had been killed rescuing me; if I hadn’t been captured, they never would have died. The realization made my breath catch in my throat, and I took a step forwards, raking my eyes over them.

I didn’t recognize any of the rescuers; everyone that had been close to Sam, Dean, and Cas had lived. Still, that didn’t make their deaths any less important, or their sacrifices. In fact, the fact that I didn’t even know their names made things that much sadder. I had no idea who they were, and they’d died for me. 

I glanced up as Cas came to stand beside me, only just realizing that there were tears running down my face. He reached up and brushed them away, and I leaned my head into his hand, closing my eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered. 

I closed my mouth; it had been opening so that a guilty whisper could issue forth, and instead shook my head.

Cas sighed and lifted my head, and I opened my eyes to look at him. “Lucy,” he stated. “Their deaths aren’t your fault.”

I stared into his blue eyes, eyes that were filled with nothing but love and understanding, and even though I didn’t quite believe him, I still nodded. Wordlessly I let Cas lead me from the warehouse, leaving the door open behind us.

Dean produced a lighter from his pocket, but I stepped forward before he could flick it open.

“Wait,” I called. “Let me do it.”

Dean studied me for a moment, and then nodded and handed over the lighter. I stood in front of the warehouse door, offering a silent thank you and goodbye to those that had died. When I opened the lighter a small flame sprang up, yellow and red and orange, flickering in the dark. I stared at it for a moment, then threw the lighter into the doorway. Immediately the flame began to spread, following the path of gasoline that we had laid. Within moments it was fanning out, following lines of oil throughout the warehouse. Even as it reached the walls it began to climb the pile of bodies at the center of the room, turning each into a flaming beacon.

For several minutes we all stood there, watching. Around the warehouse wood was crumbling, metal pieces of machine that were lying around turning a burning red and in some cases melting. It was only as the walls began to sag that we backed away, retreating a safe distance. No one made any move to leave though, and together we watched black smoke rise into the sky, even as the sun peeked over the horizon.

* * * * 

The first thing we did when we finally left was return everyone to where they had come from. Jodi Mills made sure to hug us each, reminding us that we were always welcome to stop by. Garth gave each of us a warm hug as well, then started off at a jog for his own home. Cole Trenton gave me a smile and shook Sam, Dean, and Cas’s hands. He then started up his driveway, but he was barely halfway up before a small, sandy haired boy burst from the front door, grinning. As the boy gave a shout and ran into his father’s arms Cas took my hand, and we vanished.

The four of us retired to the bunker, and we each took turns in the shower. As always, we curled up together in the spare bedroom that had become our family room, pushing to the side empty bowls of popcorn and game station remotes. For a while we chatted quietly about unimportant things, feeling a need to think about something- anything other than what had just happened.

At last Sam glanced over to me, a wary yet curious look in his eyes. “Hey Lucy?” he asked.

I turned my head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Sam bit his lip. “When you had the grace in you, you could have built a wormhole that would have taken you home, or brought your family here, or something. I dunno. I guess- why didn’t you?”

I shrugged. How was I supposed to know what I was thinking in those minutes? From what Cas had told me while Sam and Dean were talking with Adam, it hadn’t even been me. More like a collage of my mind and all the angels whose grace I’d held. 

On second thought, maybe I could guess. There had been some of me in there; any decisions that pertained to me my mind would have been actively involved in, even if I couldn’t remember anything. I shifted so that I was leaning on my elbows as I thought, the others watching me carefully.

“I think- I think that I don’t belong there anymore,” I answered finally. I met Sam’s eyes and offered him a small smile. “I’m not the same kid that I used to be. I’m a hunter now. Besides,” and I fixed Sam with a grin. “You lot would never get anything done without me around. I’m the brains of this operation, remember?”

Sam grinned, and Dean reached over to ruffle my hair. “Sure, little sister,” he chuckled. “Keep thinking that.”

I grinned and swatted at his hand, and with a laugh Dean pulled away. For several more minutes we were silent, but then it was my turn to ask questions.

“What happened with Adam?” I asked. I winced as the words left my mouth, not sure how Sam and Dean would react to the mention of their estranged brother, but both seemed to take it fairly well. They inched ever so slightly closer to each other, both with a sad light in their eyes.

“He’s moved on,” said Dean at last. “Said he doesn’t want anything to do with hunting, or us.” He sighed. “It’s for the best. He’s better off.”

I reached over and took his hand, then signaled for Sam to add his hand to the mix. “He’s still your brother,” I reminded them. “It’s ok to be upset.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam gave me a small smile. “We know,” he promised. “We’ll be fine.”

I studied them for a minute, and then nodded. They’d said they would be fine, not that they were fine, which, I decided, was a step in the right direction. They were admitting that they weren’t in top condition at that moment, which they never would have done when I’d first met them. I’d be keeping an eye on them, but I did think that they would be alright.

“Does he remember his time in hell at all?” asked Cas. His expression was worried, and I grimaced. I’d completely forgotten about that.

Sam shook his head. “There must be some sort of block in his mind; it’s keeping those memories away.” He sighed, his face paling slightly as he remembered his own time in the cage. “I hope the block doesn’t break.”

Dean reached over and squeezed his brother’s shoulder, and Sam offered Dean a smile. Again we drifted into silence, and I found my gaze drifting over to a mirror hanging on the wall. I studied my reflection in the mirror, noting how my face was harder. Not the bad hard, the cold, heartless kind, but the kind that simply said I had grown up. I had been right; I wasn’t the same person I had been. I was a hunter. I was a Winchester.

I leaned back against Cas, letting my angel wrap his arms around me. I would always miss my family, and I would always regret not being able to at least tell them that I was alright, but I was where I belonged. This was home, the bunker and all its crazy books and artifacts from the Men of Letters. Sam, Dean, and Cas were my family too now, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. No matter how many times Dean tried to persuade me to not work a case because it was dangerous, or how many times Sam acted like if he got too close to me I’d suddenly die. Or no matter how many times Cas looked at me with worry that I would fade away. I wasn’t going anywhere.

And I had a whole lifetime to prove that to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are. The end.  
> Ok, not actually the end. I'll be posting a one-shot soon, and then I'll start posting the sequel to this. Keep an eye out for them.   
> First though, I'd like to say a very heartfelt thank you to every single one of you. Everyone who stuck through my long hiatuses and continued to read this story- thank you. To everyone who took the time to hit kudos or comment- thank you. It's because of you guys that I write.  
> I hope you enjoyed this story. And I hope you hope the rest. And once again, thank you all so much.


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